


Decadence

by lightwavesurfer



Category: K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Alternate universe - Mafia, Drama, F/F, Romance, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27918307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightwavesurfer/pseuds/lightwavesurfer
Summary: After saving the life of a crime syndicate leader, a young doctor finds herself torn between duty and the allure of charming darkness
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy, Kang Seulgi/Park Sooyoung | Joy
Comments: 31
Kudos: 128





	1. How To Introduce Yourself With a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> hello. Welcome to another installment of wenrene fanfic from yours truly. I haven't written anything about gangster/yakuza au before so bear with me with this one, and I will try to update it as quickly as I can.
> 
> Warning > gore, violence, use of substances, and dubious content inside.
> 
> Crossposted in AFF

“Dr. Son, we need you in the emergency room.”

When the call came, late in the night of December 31st, Seungwan was reading a news article about the recent gang war that occurred on Christmas Eve.

According to the article, gang war wasn’t new considering how this city worked behind the shadows, but it had been happening so frequently it brought uneasiness to some citizens. They left damage to the public facilities and made it difficult to go out at night. The article went on to editorialize that civilians’ casualties was just a matter of time, and made a point to push the authorities to put a firmer grip on the city’s nightlife before things got worse.

Seungwan pulled her hair into a ponytail. It was getting a bit longer, but there was no time going to the salon when you had a demanding job. It was that time where work had been multiplied and some people out there decided to go crazy and got injured. She was mentally and physically tired. Not to mention the long hours that added more to her stress.

“A woman, stab on the shoulder, the knife is intact. She managed to get the first aid before coming here,” the nurse explained as she handed the report.

Seungwan was reading through pointed notes as she made her way to the ER; her exhaustion slowly slipping away. The news about the gang war was forgotten.

She stepped into the room. Made a pass in front of curtains where she could hear pained sobs and anguished cries. A patient died. It happened, Seungwan thought, more than she’d like to admit.

She’d seen things in the emergency room, realizing that life and death was a seamless transition, without barrier, as easy as snapping your fingers. Sometimes she’d lost sleep for days, or weeks, due to things that were beyond her control. It’s a lot to take in sometimes, but Seungwan had a duty and she knew her limit better than anyone.

“Good evening.”

Two sets of eyes were focusing on her. There were two women, but Seungwan’s attention was on the one with a knife sticking out of her right shoulder. It’s not the weirdest thing she’d seen but it still sent a chill down her spine when she saw that.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” the woman in black blouse and gray waistcoat sighed in relief as she approached the doctor. “Can you tell her to stop being difficult? She doesn’t realize how grave her condition is.”

Seungwan offered a quick smile before focusing on the injured woman. The makeshift bandage was soaking in the blood; it already seeped into the white shirt she’s wearing. They did the right thing by not pulling the knife. The blood loss could’ve been severe and Seungwan didn’t want to have anyone dying on her tonight. She examined more before saying,

“Simple stitches won’t do. I need to conduct a surgery.”

“Just pull the knife and be done with it. I have no time to stay all night.”

The voice was cold and authoritative until Seungwan had to look up. The woman did remind her of female assassins in the movies, and the first thing that Seungwan noticed was how sharp and disarming those eyes were.

She had a pretty face, the kind of pretty that’s served in a tall glass case. Seungwan had this weird attraction going on when her eyes clashed with the woman. The feeling was like looking at a piece of expensive jewelry that you wanted so badly, but you couldn’t decide whether you should take the chance to buy it, and later realizing that the jewelry didn’t suit you. A complicated feeling, to put it simply, and Seungwan didn’t play around with the complicated.

The woman was young, though the lighting might have something to do with it because as she looked away, Seungwan could make a guess that she was in her late twenties, pushing on thirty.

“Ma’am, you’ll bleed to death,” Seungwan explained. She could write a long list of patients that visited the ER, but something in her gut told her this was the most difficult one as if that fact wasn’t annoying enough. “It’s my job to prevent that from happening.”

Right eyebrow raised at the statement. Seungwan held her gaze.

“And I don’t want to spend another minute in this place. I have jobs to do.”

Seungwan threw a look to the woman behind her, whose face was curled in irritation at how difficult this one was. She gave Seungwan an apologetic nod before strutting to the other side of the bed and leaning closer to the injured one’s ear.

Seungwan couldn’t make out anything from the hushed whisper, but the sharp look from the wounded one tickled Seungwan’s most basic instinct to flee. She kept her ground though, managed to count to ten to calm her nerves, and waited until the ‘argument’ finished with a resigned sigh.

“Fine,” she said, voice sharp. “Let’s get this over with.”

 _I should’ve said that,_ Seungwan almost muttered. But that wouldn’t do well for anyone so she just sent a curt nod before calling a nurse to prepare the surgery.

She watched as other nurses moved the injured woman to a gurney and took her to the operating room. Late-night surgery wasn’t new to her, but Seungwan couldn’t deny the slight nervousness every time she had to conduct one. She let her hair loose and tied it up again, preparing to go to the operating room, when a voice called her.

“She’ll be fine, right?”

Seungwan turned around, giving her best reassuring smile to the other woman. “I’ll do my best to save her.”

“Thank you,” the woman nodded. “I’m counting on you, Dr. Son.”

Seungwan almost wanted to ask how this woman was aware of her name, but she caught the woman was looking at her badge. It was supposed to encourage her, but something about how she’s wording her sentence made it feel like she’s conditioning Seungwan to succeed. Like failure wasn’t an option.

“You have my words,” Seungwan said, voice low. “I’ll see you again.”

They parted without a word. Her pulse quickened and she took a few long breaths. Seungwan swallowed, ignoring the heat that curled up her neck, and exited the room.

She had a job to do.

/-/-/-/

She just turned twenty-six. Medical school was an accident, and she ended up doing emergency medicine as her specialty.

There were other ways for easy money, but she’s comfortable with the rush, the fast environment, the thrill that kept her on her toes, and, as much as it embarrassed her to admit, she liked people. Or sort of like helping people. She couldn’t decide which one she felt the most.

She’s ambitious enough to do well, _very well_ , and rising in the ranks was something she had her eyes on. Her job paid her well. She made enough to rent a nice studio apartment in the upper-side of the town, took her friends for Korean barbecue on weekends, decorated her living room with the latest entertainment sets, and treated herself with a bottle of vintage wine.

She lived alone; her parents were in Canada and she thought this was a better arrangement for everyone. It got a little lonely at times, but it’s not something that would cause a dent in her routine. She maintained contact, made a video call, sending gifts on Christmas, and booked a ticket to fly to Canada on their wedding anniversary every year.

She liked her life in order.

It was a beautiful Sunday with the sky was a dome full of white clouds. Out on the square, snow fluttered in a chilly breeze along the withering branches. Families and tourists strolled through the square, enjoying the weekend. Children were building a snowman in the park. Somewhere a horn sounded, followed by a whirr of engines and other city noises.

After Christmas and New Year, the city had calmed considerably. News about the gang war easily replaced with other things such as the upcoming snowstorm or idol dating scandal. Nothing too dangerous, just enough to please the public.

As she pushed through the revolving door of the deli and walked inside, the noise of the square was muffled. The dry scent of snow and pollution was replaced with the aroma of cheese and eggs. There were customers inside, neatly eating their breakfast and coffee. Seungwan decided to sit down on a stool near the counter and wait.

She muttered thanks when the waiter put a mug of steaming coffee before her. Pouring three packets of sugar and cream, Seungwan took her time stirring on it. Once the color turned to a lighter shade of brown, she took a small sip of it and breathed deeply. Oh, how she liked her coffee sweet and creamy.

A bell chimed and there’s a voice saying “Morning,” to no one in particular. Noise from the square filtered in and faded away. Seungwan opened her journal instead, preferring to go through her schedules for tomorrow. She heard the person ordered a breakfast set before setting down beside her.

“Rough night?” Seungwan asked without looking.

“Hellish,” the person answered. “You don’t look hot yourself.”

“I work in the ER, what do you think?” Seungwan closed her journal and turned around, sending a smile to the person beside her. “Good morning, Sooyoung.”

Sooyoung answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. Her jacket was looking a bit wet and there’s a trace of snow on her hair. Her eyes were red with black circles forming underneath.

“Coffee?”

A nod.

Seungwan took the coffee pot and poured some into the mug before handing it to Sooyoung. She took the mug from Seungwan’s hand and took a gulp, wincing at the taste. “Sugar and cream?” Seungwan offered.

“No. I can’t taste it if it isn’t black,” she refused.

The waiter returned with their dishes: a plate overflowing with eggs, bacon, and toasts for Sooyoung and a stack of steaming pancakes for Seungwan. 

“Where’s Yerim?”

“I sent her home. She hasn’t slept for two days,” Sooyoung said as she sprinkled some salt and pepper on her food. “Anything interesting happened during your shift?”

“Well… compared to Christmas and New Years’ eve, it’s just another day,” Seungwan answered. She smeared butter on the pancakes before cutting them into pieces. “I think people have this collective thought of acting crazy and reckless during holiday seasons. It’s kind of annoying,” she added with a morbid laugh.

“Tell me about it,” Sooyoung agreed. A piece of egg jumped out from her mouth. She’s way into her food to be bothered about manners. “I just need one day where people just stop being an idiot. Is that too much to ask?”

Seungwan ate the strawberries first before feasting on the pancakes. They’re melting inside her mouth together with the sweetness of the syrup. “Same here,” Seungwan nodded. She watched people passed by the deli window—young couples, tourists, a policeman on patrol. Today was just another weekend for everyone.

“Why don’t you take a day off?” Seungwan suggested, eyeing Sooyoung closely. “You look like about to snap.”

“I’m considering it but, as the good old poet said, no rest for the wicked.” Seungwan took a paper napkin and dabbed at her mouth, watching Sooyoung stabbing at the eggs with such vengeance. “And people are indeed idiots.”

“What’s going on this time?”

“Busted a drug den. The place was in some dirty apartments and the air smells like a dog’s piss. Disgusting piece of shit. The dealers ran away so we had to chase them. They also housed homeless junkies too. Some of them were too high on drugs, not even aware that we got the place locked.” Sooyoung sighed, hand pressing on the side of her head. “Found some of them who overdosed too. One dead, the other one critical,” she went on. “They looked no older than teenagers. No IDs, no family, no one to claim them.”

Seungwan put her fork down.

While Seungwan’s job was mainly keeping people alive by treating them with medicine and care, Sooyoung’s job was more on the gritty side. It involved a lot of investigations, undercovers, gunshots, arrest warrants, as well as deaths and near misses. Being a doctor didn’t involve any of those. Seungwan didn’t have the restriction coming from badges and uniforms, but it didn’t make anything less easy for her.

She heard a shaky breath coming from Sooyoung. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume Sooyoung was crying but the girl had been the stronger one between them or, at least, Sooyoung could mask her pain better than Seungwan.

Sooyoung lolled her head and took another spoonful of eggs and toasts to her mouth, wolfing down the rest of her breakfast like she hadn’t eaten for weeks. Night times had been too rough on them, and scolding would be the last thing Sooyoung wanted to hear.

Plucking a piece of pancake from Seungwan’s plate, Sooyoung put it in her mouth and chewed slowly.

“Going somewhere after this?”

Shaking her head, she picked the last piece of the pancake and feed it to Sooyoung. “Shopping, maybe. I need to stock up,” Seungwan began. She crossed her legs, her chin resting on the open palm.

“Lemme help.”

Seungwan chuckled. “I don’t think you can stay awake for the next ten minutes.”

“I just ate. I think I can keep my eyes open for a while.”

“Really?”

Sooyoung shrugged. She took a napkin and wiped it on her mouth. “Yeah. Do you know that shopping can help you relax? Since vacation has been really expensive these days.”

A flat TV was hanging in a corner, showing a news program that nobody even bothered to pay attention to. Seungwan leaned on the chair to stretch her legs, pressing her tongue on the front of her teeth, as she listened to the report.

_“After three weeks of Mr. Bong Kyuhyun’s tragic passing, T &J Shipping Company is now preparing to choose the new CEO to lead the company. Ms. Lee Kijeong, T&J’s Chief Communication Officer, said choosing the new leader will not be an easy task but it’s a necessary move to keep the business and Mr. Bong’s legacy alive—”_

“His passing wasn’t because of illness.”

“Yeah, you told me before,” Seungwan added, dryly. Sooyoung narrowed her eyes over the TV. “He’s involved in a shady business deal with some gangs.”

“Is there anyone in this city who’s not involved with them though?” Sooyoung asked with a sardonic laugh.

Seungwan frowned. “I don’t.”

“I would’ve surprised if you do,” Sooyoung commented with a light flick on Seungwan’s forehead. “Corruption has been running deep in this place. I can’t even remember how many times I threw those bastards to jail. It’s like they have an infinite supply of manpower, you know? Which makes it even worse if you think about it.” Sooyoung added with a visible frown on her face. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Seungwan placed her fingers on top of Sooyoung’s hand. “Don’t say that,” she insisted, her tone was serious. Staring deep into Sooyoung’s, Seungwan squeezed it tighter to make her point across. “You can’t save everyone but don’t ever think that you’re not good enough.”

The bell jingled as another customer entered. Following Sooyoung’s line of sight, Seungwan peered over her shoulder to see two men plopped into the seat by the window. They wore black suits, Hawaiian style button-up shirts, shades, and a pair of slacks. The top half of their shirt was unbuttoned to show off gold chains on their necks. Seungwan caught inks scattered on their chest behind the open shirt.

One of them caught her staring and Seungwan almost broke her neck with how quick she looked away. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest.

Crumpling the napkin, Sooyoung left some money on the table and grabbed Seungwan’s hand. Her grip was firm enough to elicit a gasp from Seungwan.

“Let’s go,” Sooyoung’s voice was terse as she spared a brief look to those men. They exited the place without any confrontation. Sooyoung finally let go of Seungwan’s hand once they arrived at a bus stop two blocks away from the deli.

Sooyoung’s shoulders squared and Seungwan knew it’s not because of the cold. A shimmer of mist rolled out from Sooyoung’s mouth as exhaled an audible breath. Mostly to calm herself.

“I’m sorry,” Seungwan murmured.

Sooyoung shoved her hands deep into her pocket, turning around so she faced Seungwan fully. The difference in their heights made Seungwan feel small under Sooyoung’s scrutiny.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Sooyoung said, half-angry, half-disappointed. “They’re gang members. They wouldn’t think twice to pick a fight and make everyone’s life miserable.”

“Sorry I… I’m just curious, you know. I don’t think I would see them in the open like that.”

Sooyoung scoffed like Seungwan just told a bad joke. “This part of the city is their feeding ground. And although the government has put a strict regulation as a preventive measure, it does nothing to them because they have the local authorities on their hands,” Sooyoung looked around. The city square was quite far from where they’re standing and people were looking more like dots that moved around. “That’s why they’re not scared coming out in broad daylight. Nobody wants to mess with them. And…”

Sooyoung fiddled with the badge on her belt, seemingly weighing on something. Her brows were pulled in a frustrated frown.

Seungwan took Sooyoung’s face in her hands, prompting the taller woman to dip her gaze. The sharp edge on her eyes chipped slowly as seconds ticked by. Shoulders visibly relaxing, Sooyoung pulled her lips to a weak smile.

“I won’t do that again.” Seungwan’s fingers traveled to the back of Sooyoung’s neck and gave it a little squeeze. “Do you still want to go shopping with me?”

Sooyoung laughed, and Seungwan preferred to see this version of Sooyoung. She could see those dark, round eyes were brimming with a playful innocence. One that reminded Seungwan of easier and better days.

“Thought you never ask.”

/-/-/-/

“Over here.”

Irene followed Seulgi to a green door in a basement of an abandoned building somewhere near the seaport. Seulgi pushed the door and held it open, bowing her head slightly as Irene stepped inside.

Nothing interesting about the interior of the basement too: scraps of rubbish here and there, dank floors and moldy walls, and a heap of broken machinery in the corner. The place was used to be a fish cannery factory and the air smelled like a rotting shark.

The smell didn’t budge Irene, but her cheeks twitched and quivered, and her eyes were sharp under the dim, yellow lighting from neon bulbs above.

Four men were kneeling on the conveniently-placed plastic wrap on the floor. Their hands tied up and dirty rags wrapped tightly in their mouths. They’re all conscious, beaten, and bloody, as they breathed in the rotten stench of fish guts. Even with the poor light, Irene could see the terror they shared when they finally caught sight of her.

Irene turned to Seulgi.

“All of them?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Irene approached and stood in front of the captives. She inspected them for a long time. They’re breathing hard. Blood was coming out from the various cuts and wounds, seeping into the cloth on their mouth, mixing with sweat and drools. Big, terrified eyes were staring at her in a silent plea. Irene could only sigh.

“I trusted you. _All_ of you,” Irene shook her head and shifted in her heels, forehead creased in a wince as pain zipped up her shoulder. She could feel the cool metal of the revolver that tucked inside pressing against her shirt.

One of them groaned in pain and squirmed futilely. His feet were bare, his right ankle was twisted in an odd angle, possibly broken, and the bruises lining his arms were deep, violent shades of black and blue.

“All of this… inconvenience is preventable, you know,” Irene continued. She pulled the revolver from her jacket and the men, if possible, were looking even more terrified than before. Some of them even already wetting their pants, turning the rotten stench up a notch.

“But no. You chose another way, _the easy_ and dirty way, to get rid of me,” Irene said it like she’d experienced a great tragedy, frowning as she took the sight in. “Are you disgusted of having a half-breed like me as your leader?”

One of them cried against the gag.

She paced across the floor, the revolver was looking big in her hand and stopped in front of the first man. Irene remembered him. He was one of the rear guards, usually waited outside for cops or any rival gang members every time there’s a deal going on. He’s pretty competent in his job. Irene even considered promoting him.

Alas.

She made no remarks as she proceeded to pull the trigger. Blood splattered as the bullet ran through his head; his body fell with a heavy thud. The shooting continued. Bodies dropped to the plastic wrap like sacks of meat. Irene ignored the tearful eyes one man gave her and continued shooting. Her expression was a monolith; blank and cold.

The last one was whimpering when Irene pressed the hot barrel on his forehead. Despite the blood and bruises, he’s rather handsome and young-looking, with a big, well-built body. His wet shirt was stuck on him like a second skin. Irene recognized this guy too. He often took around in the neighborhood, extorting security money from food peddlers, cafes, and restaurants. A low-tier thug. Still had a long way to go, but chose the wrong path instead.

Irene put the gun down, leveling her gaze so she could stare into the man’s eyes. She reached into him and harshly pulled on the gag, ignoring the obvious pain she caused him.

“What’s your name?” Irene inquired

“Taewoo, bo-boss.”

He’s shivering. Irene could see veins throbbing on the side of his forehead and how uneven his voice was.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

Irene nodded, briefly glancing at Seulgi, before turning to Taewoo. “Have you ever thought your life would end up like this, Taewoo?”

He shook his head, too terrified to even open his mouth.

“Are you scared?” Irene hummed, looking up into his blown dark eyes. He said nothing. “Do you want to live?”

He nodded. Almost deliriously.

“I could let you go,” Irene caressed his cheek, wet and sticky from the blood. Her thumb was playing with the wound on the corner of his lips, pushing on teasingly like it’s a plush toy. “You can continue your life, maybe applying to university, land a bland but stable job, getting married, and procreate. It’s boring, I know, but it’s safe,” she went on. A smile curled on the corners of her mouth as she kept caressing his face. “You want that kind of life?”

He didn’t answer.

Irene breathed a hard huff and held his face in her hands. Blunt nails gripped onto the skin tightly. “Do you want that kind of life? Answer me!” she hissed.

His nodding came with a puff of heaving breath. Big, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry! I didn’t—”

“I’m not asking your apology; I’m asking you a question! Do you understand what I’m saying?” Irene repeated, maintaining a calm façade although the color of her eyes was sharpening considerably. Meanwhile, Seulgi was watching with a placid expression.

“Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to betray you. I was just—”

His words were cut off with a swift strike on the gut. His excuses were replaced with a choppy, hacking cough, body hunching in pain. “You’re not talking your ass out of this shit, Taewoo.”

He craned his neck to look at Irene, again with a pleading shake of his head. “Forgive me, boss! I’d do anything. I would never betray you if I know it’d end up like this. I—”

Irene rolled her eyes and shot Taewoo in the shoulder. He screamed, breaking into a trembling spasm on the floor.

“Can’t even answer the question right,” Irene groaned in disbelief. “You’re a lost cause.”

She pulled away from the man, looking around for something to wipe the blood off her hand. Seulgi came prepared and gave Irene a handkerchief.

“What should we do with him?” Seulgi asked, eyeing the last one.

“I would’ve sent him to a daycare if there’s one,” Irene grumbled. The blood was getting under her nails. There’s nothing in this world that Irene hated other than blood-caked nails. They’re dirty and disgusting. Blood was disgusting. Her eyes shone as she looked at Seulgi, cocking her head sideways. The other woman didn’t flinch when Irene pushed the revolver to her hand. “Finish him.”

The last shot rang throughout the empty room; gunpowder scent wafted in the air, mixing with blood, rotting fish, and piss. It was a terrible smell, one that reminded Irene of the places she slept when she’s still a kid.

“We’re done here,” she heard Seulgi talking to the phone. A pool of blood started to form near her feet. “Send cleaners now.”

The door banged open a few moments later as two men in black suits came in. They both went to where the bodies were, stuffing the dead inside the black bags before carrying them to the undisclosed disposal area.

Irene watched the cleaners exiting the room; their footsteps were getting further. Her eyes dropped to the bloody handkerchief before crumpling it in her hands.

“Ma’am, shall we off?” 

“How many times these people can make the same mistake?” Irene questioned more to herself, looking at the mold on the ceiling as if it would provide some answers. “And pay consequences for it?”

Seulgi pursed her lips. Her jaw tightened a second too long but nothing came afterward.

“How many times I should kill my men because they can’t stand me being their leader?” Irene went on. The wound on her shoulder was still stinging, but the pain was nothing compared to the betrayal that had been cutting her deep since the beginning.

“Not everyone betrays you, ma’am. Many are loyal to you.”

“And _are you_?” Irene countered. There was something in her voice that stung, like a venom, that made Seulgi flinch under her gaze. “Which one are you?”

Irene didn’t want to question Seulgi’s loyalty. The woman had been with her through everything. From a young age, through trials and tribulations, through the turmoil of succession crises, and well into her reign as the leader of the clan. Some left her, some betrayed her, some tried to kill her, and only Seulgi stayed. Irene couldn’t ask for a better confidant. Seulgi was the best _and_ the only one Irene ever trusted.

“I will always be your ally, Irene,” said Seulgi, bowing deeply. She had seen so many did the same, but most of them were just a showcase of falsehood. Irene hoped Seulgi wasn’t going to be one of many dead bodies in the furnace, dead and burned for her betrayal.

Placing her hand on Seulgi’s arm, Irene walked to the door where she came from, careful not to step on any fish carcass or blood littering the floor.

The stench stayed with her even after she left the building. She’s thinking of burning her clothes once she got home. Gallons of detergents would never be enough to erase that stink.

Just like how she couldn’t erase the stain of blood from her hands.

-/-/-/

“I understand that, Jiyong. I’ll tell my men to behave themselves but you also have to remind your boys to stay away from our business.”

“The gang wars have been so frequent. People are getting suspicious.” Jiyong’s voice came tersely through the receiver. Irene resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“What happened on New Year’s Eve was an accident. I was just doing business as usual, but somehow the police came and _ambushed_ us,” she put pressure on that particular word. She placed a hand on her wounded shoulder. “Very convenient, don’t you think? I wonder who would’ve done that.”

The other side of the line was silent.

“Well?”

“I don’t know shit about that.”

“Look, I didn’t pull strings to cover up the fact that you received a little percentage for nothing, Kwon.”

“Shit, Bae, if I know I would’ve told you!” Jiyong almost yelled, but the tremble in his voice was obvious. “I have a press conference in thirty minutes and those bastards from the press won’t stop asking me about the new year’s incident. The narrative is getting old. I can’t keep pleasing the public with the same thing.”

“Now you’re just acting like a baby.”

“It’s been happening too frequently and it’s not just your gang. Everyone and their mothers know how lucrative this business is. The central has started to become suspicious after the new year’s stunt you pulled off. If this happens again, which I believe soon, they will—”

“Do you understand who these people are, Jiyong?” Irene cut him. She threw her gaze out the window where the sky was full of clouds. It was raining snow outside. “With people like them, you can’t predict how they will react. I could make a deal, offering them a generous margin, and the reaction would be the same. Those people are reckless; they don’t have their shit together. Only reaping the profit without understanding the rules of the game, and you know how I despise reckless people. A lot.”

She waited for Jiyong to rebut her statement. Nothing came, so she continued.

“I did this city a favor. I killed the roaches. I made this city thriving in business. People are prospering here. And that includes you too,” Irene sang just as a knock came from her door. “So, let’s not make this more complicated than necessary. You do your job, and I’ll do my best to do mine. As simple as that.”

A shuddering breath was heard from the receiver. “Don’t do this again, Irene,” and Irene grinned at his defeated voice.

The door opened with a click and Seulgi’s head peeked inside. Irene nodded as she held up a finger for Seulgi to wait.

“I appreciate it if you remember where your loyalties lie, Jiyong,” Irene stated as a final reminder of who he was dealing with. “Defy me, and I’ll make sure that you’re going to deal with more than just losing a rank in your corps.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes it is,” Irene snapped, her patience was getting thin the more she spoke to him. “Next time, I hope you can be more obedient.” Pressing the button, she slammed her phone down against her working desk.

Fingers massaging her temples, Irene took a deep breath with her lips pressed into a fine line. She hated dealing with authorities. A bunch of greedy hypocrites, eager to please their boss but pigs to money and vices. They’re hardly reliable and added more trouble than they worth. The last plant Irene put in the department was moved to a backwater village somewhere in the northern province. This new chief was not only young and corrupt, but he’s also an incompetent slob.

“Is everything okay?”

Irene looked up at Seulgi. She shook her head in dismissal at the question. “Business as usual,” Irene turned her focus to the document she had yet to read. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Just to remind you that we have a schedule in Club Sanctum this week.” When Irene groaned, Seulgi quickly added, “it’s about the new ‘medicine’ that the American broker told us before. He’s interested in our proposal and wants to discuss more.”

“Club Sanctum… really now?” Irene complained. “Of all other clubs in the district, he chose that one?”

The leather creased under Seulgi’s weight as she leaned on the chair. “Well, he specifically proposed that one.”

“I hate that place. They charge more than necessary and the shows aren’t even that good,” she continued complaining under her breath, missing the bemused smirk from Seulgi. “Anything else?”

“I’ve also sent the flowers.”

Irene stopped reading and slowly craned her neck to face Seulgi. “Flowers?”

“To the doctor who tended your wound.”

Pink lips opened up in a muted surprise at the information. “Did I order you to do that?”

“No.”

Irene cocked an eyebrow. She’s still irritated with the conversation with Jiyong and now hearing Seulgi doing something as stupid as sending flowers to that doctor annoyed her even more.

“Kindly explain why?”

“To show some gratitude. If it weren’t for her, you’d bleed to death.” Seulgi’s eyes looked over Irene as if she’s challenging the leader.

“I’ve had worse, Seul.”

“We were trapped that night. The mobs, the police, they’re chasing us, and I couldn’t risk taking you further because they will easily take us out. I understand the hospital isn’t any better, but that place is under the central government’s jurisdiction. Gangs and authorities alike aren’t allowed to conduct a raid on it.”

Irene narrowed her eyes, teeth showing in a fit of a sneer. Seulgi’s logic was impeccable, as always, but sending flowers to a random doctor was ridiculous the more she’s thinking about it.

“Did you write a letter too?”

Seulgi shook her head. “Just flowers, and the limited-edition perfume that was released last week. Keep it anonymous, just in case.”

“Okay,” she sighed, and almost hated Seulgi because she was satisfied now. “Inform me the next time you want to do this kind of thing. I’m not here to play suitors with anyone.”

Seulgi bowed to her again. Only this time, the bow was more playful than a show of respect.

“As you wish, ma’am.”

-/-/-/

The Red District was a fragment of Seoul that never slept. It was built for people who loved thrills, the ones who wanted to get lost between the overabundance of sins and pleasures. There’s a guide about the district too. It described, in a pretty amusing way, the various aspect of the sex industry the district had to offer such as hosts bars, peep shows, strip clubs, massage parlors, bars that catered to gays and lesbians, and even the extreme ones like S&M clubs.

Neon lights came out at night together with the more flamboyant touts and barkers in their tacky outfits and smelled like they dunked a bucket of cologne on their heads. The women standing here and there on the street trying to catch a potential customer. Bars and restaurants were bustling day in and day out. They provided free karaoke and it’s not weird to hear a drunken, garbled rambling from a washed-out salaryman as he tried to belt a note.

However, outside of the lights, the place was practically charmless. The district was crowded, dirty, there were too many seedy hotels and apartments, and homelessness was another problem that’s still plaguing the area.

Not to mention the gang that controlled the place in the shadows.

But that’s the meaning of living and surviving in the Red District. Not everyone was tempted with the glitter and the blinding opulence of the city. They lived like any normal people out there: crammed inside a packed train to go to work, had lunch with friends and colleagues, and went home to meet their families and loved ones. It’s like there’s an invisible wall standing to protect the normal crowd from the devil’s temptation.

When Seungwan got her letter two years ago, her appointed place was a hospital somewhere in Busan. But one month later, she got transferred to the hospital near the Red District in Seoul. Considering the reputation that the place had, it made sense that not many people wanted to work there.

While the hospital was looking ordinary like any other medical institution, the place was also infamous for nursing the wounded gang members, drunkards involved in bar fights, customers visited the bondage clubs and chewed more than they could swallow, and many others. Most of the doctors that worked there were men, but Seungwan was one of their best physicians, so the management made an exception for her.

Seungwan put her shoes on the rack, leaning on the wall for some balance and using her toes to peel off the socks. A groan escaped her throat at the constant aching on her lower back. She’s going to buy that massage chair next month.

She made her way to the kitchen to drop the bag on the counter. She began with the milk, eggs, and yogurts first. More or less dumped them into the fridge.

“Need help with those?”

Sooyoung called from the living room. She’s already sprawling on the couch, a remote in her hand, and was browsing through the streaming site for something to watch. Seungwan planned to cook for lunch, but cooking had been tedious these days. She’s going to order some takeouts later. Sooyoung wouldn’t mind.

“No,” Seungwan answered. “Want something to drink?”

“You have a beer?”

Seungwan chuckled at the suggestion. “Too early for that, Soo.”

“Okay. Milk then. The spiced one you always make.”

It’s a recipe that her mother taught her. Canada was a cold country and depending on alcohol to stay warm was never a good idea. The process was simple: she heated the milk together with the spices, preferably cinnamon, vanilla, and cloves, and mixed in honey. Sooyoung loved it, and she always asked Seungwan to serve one when she visited.

Her feet padded on the hardwood as she made her way to the living room. Sooyoung offered a soft thank you when Seungwan handed her the drink. She let out a satisfied sigh after the first sip.

“God you need to teach me how to make this,” she said, almost moaning at the taste.

“There’s a google for that,” Seungwan plopped on the spot next to Sooyoung, taking the remote off Sooyoung’s hand and continued browsing for something to watch.

“Won’t taste the same. You know I’m bad at following instructions.”

“And yet you work as a cop. A captain too,” Seungwan pointed while pinching the side of Sooyoung’s cheeks.

“What does that have to do with my rank?”

“It means you just want to crash my place for a free drink because no one else in this city would do that for you.”

They finally settled on a cartoon show that had been waiting on Seungwan’s watch list. It’s the harmless kind with silly jokes and bad punchlines. Sooyoung didn’t complain either and they spent time watching it, low chuckles creeping in between the comfortable silence.

“I’m glad that you’re here, _unnie_ ,” Sooyoung muttered. Her lips were hovering above the rim of the mug while her eyes glazed to the screen. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“I don’t do anything though.”

“No. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve died back then.”

Seungwan almost forgot that Sooyoung was two years younger than her. The frown that began to permanently etch on her forehead made Sooyoung look older, more tired compared to girls around her age. Sooyoung was good at what she’s doing and she quickly rose to the ranks despite her young age. The praise came together with sneers and cynicism, especially from the older, patronizing men who thought that Sooyoung was unfit for the job.

It’s also one of the reasons why Sooyoung was a little too obsessed to prove herself.

Seungwan met Sooyoung by accident. It was only her third night in Red District, and Seungwan had to perform an emergency procedure on a police officer who got bullets lodged on her guts. The bleeding was severe, the other doctors had made a decision that they couldn’t save this patient. Seungwan, however, didn’t give up and gave everything she got to save the officer, not caring that the odds weren’t in her favor.

It was a miracle that the surgery ended up without an accident. It took 5 weeks for the said officer to recover. Then, one day, a woman in a crisp navy and black uniform with shiny badges on the chest greeted her in the hospital’s entrance and introduced herself as Park Sooyoung.

“I was just doing my job, Soo.”

“Can you become my psychiatrist too?”

“Are you asking me for life advice?” Seungwan laughed and shook her head. “I don’t mind mending physical wounds, but the other ones? I don’t have a license for that.”

Sooyoung rested her head on the nook of Seungwan’s neck, getting comfortable. “You should take one. I promise I will become a regular.”

“Maybe someday,” she replied, slowly easing in so she could lean onto Sooyoung. They went quiet for a while. There’s a sound of a cartoony explosion coming from the TV.

“Why a cop?” Seungwan asked after a moment.

“I like the uniforms. They look cool.” Seungwan eyed her for a while, watching as Sooyoung’s smile faltered. “I guess I just want to make a difference. To get involved directly. I was planning to go to medical school, but it was too difficult for me, so I found myself applying to the police academy.”

Seungwan frowned. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yea, it wasn’t, but unlike you, I don’t have the cut to become a doctor,” Sooyoung poked Seungwan on the gut playfully. “Being a cop is more of my thing. What’s cooler than raiding a criminal’s den with guns blazing?”

“It’s cool, but only if you don’t end up getting shot,” Seungwan deadpanned.

“It’s just that one time,” Sooyoung pulled away from Seungwan’s shoulder, pouting, and her cheeks were flushing. “I’m more careful this time.”

“Really?”

“ _Unnie_ ,” the tone in Sooyoung’s voice was thick as she warned Seungwan to drop the topic. The older woman raised her hands in mock surrender, but not before laughing at how easy to fluster Sooyoung.

The bell rang up and both women were looking up.

“Are you expecting someone?” Sooyoung asked, eyeing the door.

Seungwan shook her head. She wanted to ignore it, but whoever behind the door didn’t stop ringing the bell, and the possibility of receiving a noise complaint didn’t sound too appealing. Rousing from the couch, Seungwan made her way to the foyer and opened the door.

A courier stood by, holding a bouquet of roses and a box covered in blue velvet wrapping.

“Ms. Son Seungwan?”

“Yes?” He handed her the bouquet and the box, then proceeding to take out a piece of paper for Seungwan to sign on. “Wait. Where’s this coming from?”

“Dunno. I just picked these up from the stores and sent them to you,” he replied quickly, sounding impatient. “Please sign here,” he went on, tapping a finger on an empty signature space.

“But I didn’t—”

“Lady, if you want to complain, call the customer center. I’m here to deliver the package and I still have six blocks left.”

Seungwan frowned, almost offended at how this guy rudely cut her off. She signed the paper anyway and slammed the door shut on the courier’s face.

Sooyoung was taking a sip of her milk when Seungwan returned. She put the mug down as she curiously eyed the rose bouquet.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know. A gift, maybe?” She tried to find a card or whatever that would help her find the name of the sender. She put the bouquet on the coffee table, careful not to rip the flowers, before turning to the blue velvet box.

“Wow, real roses,” Sooyoung commented as she picked on the bouquet. “Do you have a vase or something?”

“You can look in the kitchen,” Seungwan replied, not bothering to look at Sooyoung. She ran her fingers along the smooth surface of the box. If this was a regular gift, Seungwan wouldn’t think twice to rip on the paper, but the wrapping was so beautiful and neat as if whoever ordered this gift was seriously trying to impress her. She took the envelope opener, careful not to slice it too deep.

The box had neither name nor a brand. Her eyes widened when she opened it: a bottle of luxurious perfume placed in between puffed golden satin cloth was staring back at her.

Seungwan never cared about luxury goods, but her patients often sent her some as a thank you gifts. She never accepted any of them, thinking it’s stupid to receive a gift from just doing her job. She often checked on the price though and almost insulted at how obscenely expensive some of the goods were.

“Hey, that perfume was released last week no? And I think it’s a limited edition too?” Sooyoung commented as she returned to her spot next to Seungwan. The roses were already placed in the vase; they’re so bright and red.

They reminded Seungwan of the color of blood.

“I think so,” Seungwan mumbled, dazed. Her brain was spinning.

“Any name or address?”

“I… don’t see any,” she muttered. She checked inside the box and still unable to find anything that would tell her the sender’s name. “This is weird.”

Sooyoung took the perfume and sprayed it on her wrist. The scent of sandalwood and magnolia filled the air; a fresh and charming fragrance that you can taste on your tongue if it’s possible to sip air.

“Man, this smells good,” Sooyoung said, sniffing on the air. “Are you sure there’s no name or address you can look up?” she went on, putting the bottle on the table.

“No.”

“Want me to check on it?” Sooyoung offered, her voice was serious. “I can call the logistic company and ask my friend to take a look at it.”

Seungwan snorted. She shook her head and patted Sooyoung on the arm. “Thanks, Soo, but it’s okay. Maybe it’s from one of my patients.”

“A bit mysterious, don’t you think? And… maybe a bit of a romantic,” Sooyoung sang, and Seungwan had an urge to throw a cushion to her face. “Roses and expensive perfume? Whoever sending these to you must have ulterior motives.” Sooyoung picked on the remote and resumed watching, “very suspicious if you ask me.”

Seungwan wasn’t listening to Sooyoung. Her mind suddenly returned to that night of December 31st. The scent of that perfume jogged her memory, and the first image that came into her brain was those sharp, disarming eyes of _that woman_. She remembered the names; the wounded one was Irene while the other one was Seulgi, and both women were beautiful, but it was Irene that made her uneasy for some reason.

And while Seungwan tried to maintain professionalism, she couldn’t stop herself from observing Irene as the woman was unconscious on her operating table. She was petite, taut and lean muscles, toned abs, and nice arms, but Seungwan’s eyes didn’t miss the long, dimpled flesh that stretched on Irene’s chest.

The scar was long and discolored. The marking was a shade darker compared to Irene’s alabaster skin. Whoever caused the wound had intended to inflict a permanent scar or to kill. It was violent, ripping into the skin to tear on the muscles and flesh.

Seungwan clenched her fingers. Something didn’t seem right when it came to those two. Irene also didn’t stay for too long; she ignored Seungwan’s assistance and insisted to leave as if the idea of spending her time in hospital equaled torture.

But, Seungwan reasoned, there’s no guarantee that Irene sent her these. The woman didn’t even bother to say thank you. Not like Seungwan was crazy for praises, but simple gratitude could make anyone’s day. She leaned in to touch the roses, fingers grazing on the petals, careful enough to avoid the thorns from pricking her skin

Curiosity, however, was a feeble thing.


	2. A Different Kind of Mundanity

Irene shifted. A low creak came from the couch. Her blouse was folded on the table. Nothing was interesting to see here and Irene was bored. Huffing, she ran her fingers on the fresh bandage on the shoulder, and quietly observed her surroundings.

The room was medium-sized; the cobblestone walls reminded Irene of the castles in the British period dramas. Weak sunlight came through the narrow, ornated window that broke through the thick clouds. Mounted on the wall was an X-ray viewer with some developed films.

“Your shoulder is healing, but I suggest to take it slow these days,” Jennie walked up to Irene and handed her the x-ray image. “What did I say to stop straining yourself? If that knife went a bit deeper, it’d be enough to rip the tendon and you can kiss your arm goodbye.”

Irene accepted the photo; eyes lingered on it briefly before looking up at the doctor.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore—”

Jennie cut any excuse from Irene with a press of her hand on the wound, earning a pained groan from the woman.

“See?”

Irene gasped as she resisted the urge to squirm in pain. “It’s just a scratch.”

“One that almost cost you a limb.”

“Jen, please,” Irene insisted. She moved up to her, hands resting on Jennie’s waist. She ignored the disapproving look Jennie gave her. “I’m a busy woman. I can’t stay idle for too long; boredom will kill me.”

Jennie rolled her eyes; an incredulous chuckle escaped her plump lips. “You can ask Seulgi to do everything for you.”

“Seulgi isn’t an errand girl. Her job is just as important.”

“You’re giving her too much freedom.”

“She’s a confidant,” Irene quickly added. Her tone was serious. She didn’t like it when people think that she’s playing favorites. “She knows what she’s doing, and if she fucked up, I’ll be the first to know.”

Jennie was searching Irene’s gaze before finally relenting. There’s no use to argue about Seulgi with her.

“But I don’t come here to argue with you about Seulgi. I want you,” she held onto Jennie’s wrist and placed her hand on top of the bandage, “to make sure that I’m good enough to go back to work.”

“Irene,” Jennie sighed as she played with a patch of Irene’s skin with the tips of her fingers. “You can’t micromanage everything. I know you have trust issues, but you’re going to stretch yourself thin if you keep doing this.”

She received a non-committal shrug as the answer.

“Maybe I like stretching myself thin.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Jennie pointed. She leaned closer; her nose almost brushing Irene’s. Her fingers ran up to nestle at the base of Irene’s neck. “There are many that want this head,” she whispered, tone foreboding. Her gaze dropped to the long gash on Irene’s chest. “That, and your shoulder aren’t going to be the last.”

Usually, Irene would roll her eyes and brush Jennie off, telling the doctor to stop being paranoid. But that would be foolish because Irene realized that Jennie was right. Living in this world had introduced Irene to many types of violence, and she always came out as a survivor.

While roaches from the outside were common, the danger often came from the inside of her clan. She’s surrounded by hungry wolves. They’re waiting in the darkness, eager to bury their fangs to her neck and tear her head apart.

How many times these people can make the same mistake and pay the consequences for it, indeed.

Irene blinked up when she heard Jennie calling her name. She tilted her neck, mouth dropped to a lazy smirk. “I’ll be fine,” she said. A sorry attempt to make herself sound convincing.

“Irene. You have to…”

“Take it easy? I know that, too.”

Jennie’s eyes sharpened as Irene’s fingers slipped down and pulled the zipper on her skirt. With a swift flick on the clasp, the black garment dropped to the floor. She shook her head as Irene started undoing the buttons on her blouse. Despite what’s happening, Jennie was still unflinching.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh you don’t have to,” Irene husked as she brushed her lips on the tip of Jennie’s chin. “I just need you to stay loyal to me.”

Jennie’s expression stiffened for a brief second before she looked away in a mild contemplation. Both of them understood exactly the meaning of those words.

The fact: Jennie owed Irene her life.

After finishing her education in New Zealand, Jennie went to Seoul to work as a medical practitioner. A brilliant doctor, easily outranking her seniors and became one of the most sought physicians. Her fame and talent brought praises as well as envy from her peers.

Suddenly, her career was turning a hundred eighty when she caught in a scandal: a patient under her supervision was brain-dead because of an error in the treatment.

The case shook the country and investigations were soon conducted. It was reported that the cause of malpractice was due to negligence from the hospital management, and the treatment that Jennie conducted was aligned with medical protocols. Unfortunately, the young doctor already suffered the brunt of the public outrage and, to add insult to injury, she became the scapegoat and the hospital fired her to save face.

Finding nowhere else to go, Jennie went to the Red District and opened a small, back-alley medical practice. Her scandal reached this neighborhood, but the residents often came to Jennie’s place to heal their ailment. The fee was cheaper than the district’s general hospital, but Jennie treated her patients just the same. Her treatment was exceptional and, despite her cold exterior, Jennie was nice and it made her somewhat famous in the area. She even had returning patients.

Her reputation spread overnight and it finally reached Irene’s ears.

 _“I can give you much better than what you have right now,”_ was what Irene told Jennie when she paid a visit to her office that day.

Jennie wasn’t stupid. She did her homework and knew who Irene was. Naturally, she refused the offer, telling Irene that she didn’t want to get involved in any criminal activities.

_“It’s not charity work. I’ll provide you money, security, a place to live, everything you want. The city is corrupted, full of idiots, but you’re not them, Dr. Kim. You are smart. You know better what to do.”_

Irene gave Jennie time to think about the proposal. She gave the doctor her number and left with a kind smile and inviting gaze. Weeks later, she received a phone call, asking her if the offer was still open.

A light gasp escaped Jennie’s mouth when Irene was biting the sharp outline of her collarbone. Her attention quickly snapped to the present and the state she was in. Irene was here, torso bare, and Jennie was only three pieces away from getting naked.

“Well, doc?” she pulled Jennie close. Skins pressing against each other. “Am I allowed to play outside?”

Wide brown eyes were brimming at her, and Jennie often forgot that Irene was the overseer of the criminal underground in Red District, that this woman killed people in her spare time. It didn’t matter if you hate her or not, Irene had this air around her that’s powerful enough to attract people. Like a flame to a hoard of moths.

And once you got close enough, Irene wouldn’t think twice to burn your wings until there’s nothing left for you to bleed.

 _What a dangerous person_ , Jennie often thought, but she realized that she’s one of the moths that fluttered around Irene’s flame. She’s no different from everyone else.

“Stop being reckless,” Jennie relented. Neck craning to the side to grant access for those plush lips bruising her skin with kisses. “You have to cut out running, jumping—"

Thumb smoothing along the flesh of her lower lip, Irene leaned upward. She’s trying to capture Jennie’s mouth but she pulled away just enough.

“I can’t promise to that,” she pouted.

Jennie chuckled. The pout was pretty cute, all things considered.

“Shooting, all kinds of strenuous activities are banned if you want to keep your body from breaking down.”

“You’re a tease,” Irene muttered. She gripped Jennie’s waist tight and yanked the doctor down, feeling her body buzzing when their lips finally touched.

Searing into the kiss, she felt Jennie wrapping her arms around her neck for some balance. The kiss was unhurried as she bit the bottom of Jennie’s lip. Her body was heating from the inside and Irene couldn’t hold a moan as Jennie’s tongue fought against hers, teeth teasing on the flesh before lips dragging against each other’s in a lazy dance of passion.

“If you show sufficient self-restraint, I might give you a pass.”

Irene hummed between kisses, teasing the clasp of Jennie’s bra with the tip of her fingers.

“Whatever the doctor’s order.”

Jennie pushed Irene down so her weight pressed Irene deep into the couch. Mouths broke for a moment, panting into the air before she came down to kiss Irene again. The x-ray image of Irene’s wound dropped forgotten on the floor along with the heap of their clothes.

-/-/-/-/

A sleek, black chromatic sedan made a turn around the front garden before stopping in front of her. Rolling her shoulder to get rid of the soreness, Irene walked to it and went inside the car. It was warm inside; the smell of freshly baked bagel and the fragrance of tea greeted her. Once Irene did buckling up, the car revved up to live and went into the street.

“For me?” Irene eyed the bag on the dash. 

“Yes,” Seulgi said. Her eyes were watching the road as she took a turn. “I thought you need energy before the meeting.”

Irene peeled the paper wrap, taking a bite of the bagel. Cream cheese and salmon meat melted on her tongue and she quickly took another bite before she could properly chew the first one. The session she had with Jennie was taking too long, and the hunger she’d been ignoring in favor of a different craving finally got her in the end.

“Eat slower, ma’am. That bagel won’t go anywhere,” Seulgi reprimanded her, throwing a glance. “What did the doctor say?”

The cup was still warm, she opened the lid and gulped to wash down the food she just chewed. She preferred to have a solid dinner, something warm and tasty like ramen or chicken soup. She licked the cream cheese off her mouth before leaning back to the seat.

“I just have to be careful.”

Seulgi eyed her dubiously. “Only that?”

Irene hummed. “Jennie is a reasonable woman. I’m going to be fine as long as I don’t strain myself.”

“You’re lucky she likes you,” Seulgi jested. A burst of small laughter coloring her voice.

Irene rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything to counter that one. Her eyes found the glowing number of the clock in the dashboard. 9:45 pm. She had been out with Jennie for more than eight hours. No wonder her body was sore all over.

She lolled against the window, wincing as the cold pressing against the side of her head. Eyes gazing outside, the familiar street, billboards, and neon lights came to view.

“I hope you remember that we have a meeting in Club Sanctum tonight.”

“I remember,” Irene’s voice cracked slightly. She took another bite of the bagel, slowly this time, as she watched the blur of red, yellow, and orange outside.

“I’ve dispatched some of our men to patrol the area. We don’t want to have that kind of accident to happen again.”

Irene scoffed. “Well, I would be more surprised if the negotiation can go smoothly without any shot fired.”

“The client is an American expatriate. He’s a broker, he doesn’t have any affiliation with anyone in this city,” Seulgi pointed. Irene didn’t miss the unusual annoyance that began to surface in her voice. “And even if he does, I’ll make sure that he doesn’t get the chance.”

Irene didn’t respond to that. “Anything else I should know about this guy?”

“His name is Nate. His job is to supply drugs and other medical equipment to hospitals. Aside from hospitals, he also sells specialized drugs to people who have the money and resource. He sees opportunity in this city and wants to expand the business.”

“A smart choice.” Irene finished up what was left of her bagel and drank the rest of her tea. “Let’s just hope he’s serious about expanding. I could use another trusty supplier to keep the goods running.”

Seulgi nodded, “Yes ma’am,” and floored onto the pedal. The engine roared to life and zipped in between the city blinding lights.

-/-/-/

Irene stepped out of the car, careful not to slip on the snow. She folded her arms around her chest and observed her surroundings.

Neon red sign gleaming in the winter fog. The club wasn’t the biggest in the city, but it’s one of the busiest. There’s a commotion coming from the entrance, a typical brawl between a drunk customer and the bouncer. It ended with the customer kissing the cold asphalt and getting a shine in one eye. Irene simply looked; she didn’t come here to meddle.

“Ready?”

“After you, ma’am.”

Irene walked first with Seulgi tailing behind. One of the bouncers saw her and quietly opened the door. She heard yelling from someone in the queue, but neither she nor Seulgi could be bothered to pay them attention.

Once inside, the coldness of winter was easily swept away by the heat of the spotlights. Soft blue and yellow lights colored the place with crowds and spread out on the main floor. Dancers littered in groups, serving drinks in skimpy laces and leathers, long legs adorned in fishnets and sparkly garters. The music was loud, deep with bass and heavy beats. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol permeated in the air; loud music muffled cheers and howling from the customers as they slipped money into a dancer’s lacy underwear.

“It’s smokey in here,” Seulgi commented, pressing closer to Irene.

“It’s a dirty place,” came the curt answer. “Where’s our man?”

Seulgi narrowed her eyes and looked around. Irene hated loud and flashy places. Nausea lingered just behind a headache. The bagel she ate was slowly crawling up her throat. It was when Seulgi pointed at the man sitting on the bar did Irene feel a little better.

“Nate?”

He turned around, a bottle of beer in his hand. Seulgi had described Nate as white, stocky, and looked like Dennis Nedry from Jurassic Park. And Irene could see the resemblance: round face, neatly trimmed curly hair, beady eyes, and thin lips. He’s wearing a collared gingham shirt, doubled with parachute jacket, and plain brown slacks.

“I’m Seulgi. We’ve been corresponding through e-mails for the past weeks?”

A frown appeared on his face as he tried to recollect his bearings. The flickering lights made his skin look hollow and superficial, and it stirred up the unpleasant feeling down Irene’s gut.

“Ah, Ms. Seulgi. Pleased to meet you,” he roared after finally connecting the dots. “And who’s this pretty lady over there?”

“She is my boss. Whatever business you want to have in this city, you must go through her.”

Irene mustered her best smile as she stepped forward and offered her hand to Nate. “Good evening. You can call me Irene,” Nate was standing agape for a brief moment before taking Irene’s hand, shaking it almost deliriously. His fingers were sticky and clammy as they held Irene’s in a firm grip.

Once he pulled away, Irene quickly took out a handkerchief and wiped off whatever stickiness in her hand. Her smile didn’t falter.

“Sit down, ladies. What can I get you? It’s on me tonight,” he continued, an overly friendly smile painted on his face.

“We should get into the business, Nate,” Irene cut him before he could say anything to the bartender. She preferred to stay sober until the end of the negotiation.

“Aww you’re no fun,” he floundered, taking a step forward and slinging his bulky arms around Irene.

His body was three times bigger than Irene’s, and the pressure from his weight added unnecessary stress to her injured shoulder. His breath stank of alcohol. Irene didn’t want to know how many pints he had swallowed.

“Nate,” Irene shrugged Nate off her, throwing him a glare that’s enough as a sign of warning. “I appreciate the invitation, but wouldn’t it be better if we can speak in a place where we don’t have to yell all the time?”

The gears were cranking in his head, followed by another toothy grin. “Oh, private room. Yes, yes. I’ve booked one. We can go there. You and me. Come, come. Don’t be shy.”

Sharing a look with Seulgi, Irene slowly nodded and followed Nate upstairs where the private room was. The music got louder the further she went in. Bright, red lights decorated the walls; dancers and customers were huddling in narrow hallways. Some of the patrons in dark suits were looking at her as she walked. In this darkness, Irene didn’t know whether those men were hers or from the rival gangs.

The interior was pretty much standard; small, with flagrant décor. Soft blue lights hung from the ceiling and blinked back and forth in slow, rhythmic meters. The sequin textures spanned up the length of the four walls, reflecting flecks of light around the space. The seating was round, encompassing the small, circular area with a dancing pole in the middle of it. Everything in this room held a slick, cheap plastic feel to it. Superficial, like everything else in this city.

“I’m a little thrown. I just stepped off the plane yesterday, planned to lay low for a while before I get on the job again, but this place,” he whistled and threw his hands in the air. “Is incredible, man. So many things to see, so many things to do. You know, I’ve been to Kabuki-Cho in Shinjuku. You know Shinjuku?” Irene nodded at the question. “And I thought that place has everything. But here,” the noise as he gulped his beer was disgusting and disturbingly loud. “I’d say this place will become the future entertainment scene in Asia. The biggest one.”

Irene crossed one leg to the other, lips curling to a smile. “I see this place has been treating you well.”

What’s good about Americans, which Irene had the pleasure to generalize, was that they always open to new things that cater to their needs. They’re not easily impressed, but once you exploit their needs, they’ll light up like a kid in a candy store. They’re not exactly the most open-minded in the world. It’s like they couldn’t imagine any world outside of the States. Worse, they’re always trying to force others to do whatever they believed to be right. They’re troublesome, but they never had problems with money and willing to dump millions of dollars like they have them growing in their backyard.

“I bought a guide for this place too, you know. They said a man can find anything he wants here,” Nate continued.

“That is correct,” Irene nodded. “So, what business do you have with me today?”

He pulled out a small, patchwork bag from his pocket and offered it to Irene. He didn’t flinch when Irene didn’t immediately accept the package. Instead, his smile was getting wide and lopsided. It’s hard to see if he’s drunk or not, but from how his body swayed, it’s the former.

Irene took it and fished out a small plastic bag of white powder, holding it under the light to get a better look. “We already have this one here.”

“This is different from cheap salts out there, chief,” Nate floundered, sounding instantly sober as if he never took a sip of that alcohol. “Look, I’ve been in the business for so long. That thing in your hand is the hottest item in the market right now. I’m handling all the products myself. People in the street are already talking about how great this stuff is.”

Irene listened. He spoke like a snake-oil salesman. The room’s poor lighting twisted his expression to a whorl of wrinkles. His skin was artificial like it’s made from a loose rubber. The accumulated fat hid the shape of his jaw, making his neck and head look like they’re stitched into one.

“Yes, I know. I understand your position. Seulgi has filled me with it,” Irene cut him off before he could rub his ego even more. “And with that in mind, I’m sure I’m not the only one to receive this generous offer, am I?”

He’s laughing, short and nervous, and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Of course not, but words on the streets said that you’re the most reasonable.”

“Am I now?”

Nate let out heavy breathing as he’d just running a mile. He took a quick swig of the beer. The artificial-looking skin on his face curled in disgust. “You’re different from these people. You understand the business, you understand how everything works, and you’re not afraid to take chances. There are people out there who won’t think twice to pay double for that thing.”

Irene scoffed, throwing the bag upward like it’s a toy. “Really? And what makes your drugs special compared to others?”

“This city is big. It has a lot of potentials, but the drug business here is kinda decentralized. Too many distributors, too many cheap salts. People come to this district not only for watching tits and pussy, they need other recreation too. I did some research. Your rival, the White Lotus, has been monopolizing the drug circulation in this place even though your gang is supposed to be the _de facto_ leader here.”

Irene balled her fists. The wound on her shoulder was a reminder of how dangerous they were. They didn’t hesitate to plant a mole in her gang to steal information and used them as a tool to create infighting and division.

The rivalries between them had been going on for generations. Not only they’re waging war in territories and business, but they also tried to outmatch each other’s leverage in the government and authorities. The New Year’s Eve attack was proof that the current inspector was an idiot and Irene had to work harder to get the authorities back on her side.

“Chief,” Nate’s voice was low and rumbling. It reminded Irene of a hungry stray dog that scraped trash for food. That weird smile was still scrunching up his face. His expression was looking a shade darker, and Irene didn’t think it’s because the room was warm. “What do you think? You can own more than half of the clubs here, you can do contract killing or whatever, but whoever owns the distribution will become the _true_ leader of this city.”

“And what’s in it for us?” Irene inquired.

His smug grin wasn’t hard to miss.

“Since we’re doing this for the first time, I will make it easy for you. 60-40 profit, a steady delivery every two weeks. I’ll take care of the shipment cost but everything else is yours. And if something happened during the delivery, like robbery, attack from other gangs, or a police raid, it will become your responsibility.”

The negotiation didn’t go as she planned, but Irene realized that she didn’t have many choices here. There’s a division in her gang; she heard complaints that some of the younger recruits were unsatisfied with their job while the older ones were conspiring to snatch her position. Those first couple of years after she took leadership from the previous boss were harsh on everyone. Too much blood spilled, too many trusts severed, and the once-proud clan was almost reduced to ashes with how terrible everything was.

“So?” Nate asked again. His beady eyes were gleaming in anticipation. “Deal?”

Ripping open the top, Irene licked her finger and dipped it into the white powder. She brought the coated finger to her lips and stuck the digit into her mouth, spreading it on her tongue.

Keeping her gaze onto Nate, Irene mouthed.

“We’ll take the sixty.”

-/-/-/-/

She didn’t get enough rest this weekend.

There’s a huge fire in an apartment in the middle of the city, and Seungwan couldn’t remember the last time the emergency room packed like this. Everything was moving too fast and there’s no time to think about anything. Her body was moving in autopilot as she dashed from one corner to another, amidst the sobs and pained wails, the blood and tears, and the staff barking orders to keep things going. To keep saving lives regardless of how futile some might be.

It’s morning when everything finally settled down.

8:30 am, and Seungwan shoved her phone into her pocket. Adrenaline had simmered, leaving her with aching bones and numbing exhaustion. It was one of the brutal nights, one that made her questioning her decision and cursing her inability to save people from dying even though it was beyond her control.

Her scrub started to feel tight around her back. She’s already spending hours nodding in her office, telling herself that she needed to go home and sleep for the next 24 hours because she had no idea what kind of fuckery this city would give her next, and Seungwan never liked surprises.

She took a shower, at least. The staff’s communal bathroom wasn’t the most luxurious, but they provided hot water and it’s clean. There’s no one inside and Seungwan took the furthest stall, turning it to an acceptable temperature, threw the sticky clothes away, and let the water washed the scent of blood and death down the drain.

So, she’s still thinking about it. Thinking about the patient that died on her table. A pained groan escaped her mouth and Seungwan forced herself to close her eyes. Leaning her head against the wall, Seungwan watched the water sliding over her body, along her fingertips, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the flat sound from the ECG and the inevitable dread she felt as she pushed her hand against his chest, trying to get his heart to beat once again.

 _On my table,_ they kept repeating inside Seungwan’s head, twisting her heart even more. Her face was wet, both from the hot water and her tears. Seungwan didn’t care. She’d failed. She felt so small, and the room suddenly got so big. Seungwan didn’t want him to die, she should’ve pushed longer. But she didn’t, she lost him, and her tears were falling for someone today.

It took her fifteen minutes. When she stepped out of the stall, prunes already formed in her hands and Seungwan almost cringed at how red her eyes were. The change of clothes freshened her a bit, but there’s still another thing that had to be sated. The angry growl from her stomach reminded Seungwan that she barely ate last night.

Bidding her goodbye to the on-duty nurse, Seungwan dragged her legs down the hallway. She’s going to make a quick trip to the nearest convenience store for some bread and coffee before going home. That would be the best. She’s too tired to cook anything.

“…yes, thank you very much.”

And she stopped abruptly when the voice broke the barriers in her ears. The view of that woman standing by the front desk turned her blood cold. As if the death of her patient wasn’t bad enough, Seungwan was also responsible to deliver the news to the family. Seungwan had to maintain a stiff lip as she watched the anguish erupted before her, had to grit her teeth to keep her tears from spilling at the sight of the woman trying hard to calm her crying children. A son and a daughter, both seemed no older than twelve years old. 

She took a quick turn and entered the elevator before the woman could see her. She didn’t care about the number she’d pressed. Her logic told her to stop running away, but Seungwan was too coward to face everything; maybe she’d have another breakdown, but that would be too selfish. Her grief wasn’t comparable to what that woman was feeling.

It took Seungwan a while to gather herself. When the elevator dinged open, she breathed deeply and shook her head as if it would help to clear her mind. There were indistinct chatters as she made her way down the hall.

Looking to the side, Seungwan saw a group of children in their hospital gown playing with the caretakers. The room was bright and colorful; the walls were colored in yellow paint and decorated with the children’s drawings.

Seungwan walked slower and took everything in. The noise was comforting, felt like blankets that wrapped you through cold nights. Those laughter, smiles, and tears were different from what she often saw in the emergency room. They’re free and innocent; they didn’t bear the burden of the world, and Seungwan admitted that she’s a bit jealous of children.

“Seungwan?”

Someone called her. Turning around, a woman in a white coat and light blue scrub approached her, holding a clipboard of reports and data in her hands.

“Tiffany. Hi,” Seungwan greeted back. Her smile came a bit strained.

Tiffany was her senior by three years. Due to the lack of female doctors, they bonded quickly when Seungwan transferred into the hospital. Tiffany was nice, with a personality that made people easily open up to her. But, just like other professionals out there, Tiffany was strict, never compromising her ethics, and devoted to her job. Seungwan liked her. Respected her, even, both as a colleague and a friend.

Tiffany didn’t stop and Seungwan followed beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“I was about to go home, and I thought I need some time alone and just…” Seungwan breathed deeply. “Hide.”

Tiffany glanced at her. A bemused expression was on her face. “From what?”

“From… I don’t know. My feelings, maybe,” she said. They passed the children's wards. The doors were open; some of the kids were sleeping, some were playing with their roommates, throwing balloons, some were watching cartoons, some were with their parents.

They arrived in the nursery. Inside, a nurse was taking care of a crying baby. The crying was strained and Tiffany quickly approached the nurse.

“What’s wrong with him?” Seungwan inquired as Tiffany took the baby and carried it in her arms.

“Her,” Tiffany corrected. “She never stops crying,” then added while gently patting the baby’s back to calm her. Her expression turned serious as she looked at Seungwan. “Found her in the dumpster behind a love hotel in the north block. We’ve checked her for everything. Drug exposure, diabetes, HIV, but we got nothing.”

Her sadness evaporated to something else. She watched Tiffany trying to calm the baby and something in her shifted. “May I check her?” she offered.

Tiffany handed Seungwan a stethoscope. Pressing it onto the baby’s belly, a frown appeared on her forehead as she focused on what she’s hearing.

“Have you done an ultrasound?”

“You hear something?”

“Yeah. Worth a shot.” Tiffany nodded in agreement and told the nurse to prepare for a check-up schedule for the baby. “Maybe I should’ve gone into pediatrics,” Seungwan added with a wistful sigh.

Tiffany scoffed. “Why? The emergency is too intense for you?”

“I thought I was ready for anything, but I’m not.” She ran her fingers on her hair in a fit of frustration. “And I… I don’t know. I feel lost. There was a fire last night, victims were coming in. All that blood, that singed skin and violence, I just…” her voice went to a hitch. She couldn’t cry now. Not here. Not in front of Tiffany. She blinked rapidly and looked upward, an attempt to keep tears from falling. “I couldn’t save them, you know.”

Tiffany didn’t say a word. Her expression was unreadable but she was looking at Seungwan with such sympathy and it’s getting harder for Seungwan to hold her tears.

“If it is up to me, I’d love to help them too,” Tiffany stated after a brief second of silence. Her gaze went past Seungwan to look at the sleeping babies around them. “I wouldn’t let them abandoned in dumpsters, in alleys, or wherever god-forsaken place in this city. But I can’t,” Tiffany turned to Seungwan. She scoffed, but it was painful and conflicted. “I’ve been here for so long. Just like you, I thought I’m used to how everything works around here, but there’s nothing you can do to excuse how terrible this city is. Some of the babies come from impoverished families or just like this girl right here, parentless, dumped in some corner and waited to die.”

Seungwan looked at Tiffany, feeling the knife of Tiffany’s words gutting her.

“This is the least I can do for them,” Tiffany sighed and carefully returned the baby to her crib. “Providing them a place to sleep, food to eat, comfort and care, before they return to their parents or the orphanage, or worse…”

It was upsetting to see tears welling in Tiffany’s eyes. A warm hand dropped onto Seungwan’s shoulder and squeezed it. When she looked up, the smile that curled on Tiffany’s lips was solemn.

“You’ve done everything you can, Seungwan. It happens to all of us and at the end of the day, you should never forget why you’re doing this in the first place,” Tiffany jabbed her finger onto Seungwan’s chest, right above her heart.

“It’s a matter of heart, Seungwan. And, as they say, it never lies.”

-/-/-/-/

Sooyoung straightened her coat. Her breathing came in a slow exhale. It was 10 am and she hadn’t had breakfast yet. Looking around, she morbidly thought to herself that it was never too early for a homicide. At weekends, no less.

The wall before her was stained by the blood that shaped like a starburst. A body lied unmoving on the floor. The front side of his head was blown off, creating a pool of blood that left an ugly brown stain on the rug. The room had been searched and dusted for prints. Forensics were at work, collecting bits of teeth and skulls, taking notes and pictures of the crime scene. A sawed-off shotgun was on the floor just a few feet away. The apartment was a mess with the furniture strewn across the room. Some of the lightbulbs were broken, making the atmosphere appear gloomy.

“Neighbors said their fight wasn’t new. They heard them screaming at each other for like two hours. But then gunshots went off. Twice. From both barrels.”

Detective Han was reading through his notes, sounding thoroughly bored as he pointed some of the details. Sooyoung was listening but her attention was on the picture frames in the living room. Pictures of a family, all of them were smiling happily before tragedy taking everything from them.

Eyes narrowing, she leaned closer to take a better look.

“Did the kid see it?”

“What?”

“They have a son,” Sooyoung pointed at the smiling boy in the picture. “Did he see it?” she repeated the question with a louder voice. It attracted the attention of other staff in the room and everything was suddenly still. There’s an awkward phase of discomfort hanging in the air. Everyone was stealing glances at one another, too wary to voice their opinion.

Han closed his notebook. His expression was bordering upset. “Yes,” his answer was abrasive. He walked over and took the picture frame to get Sooyoung’s attention. “You know, maybe you need to take a vacation.”

Sooyoung held the urge to roll his eyes at Han’s suggestion. “My question is legit, Han.”

“And what are you going to do? Asking him to tell us how his mother killed his dad?” Han scoffed, throwing a disapproving look to Sooyoung. “He’s dead, Park. The wife killed him. The social service will take care of the kid. Anything else has nothing to do with us.”

Sooyoung eyed Han as he left, pushing past Yerim, who’s just entering the precinct. She gave Han a look as she approached Sooyoung.

“What happened?”

Sooyoung let out a tired sigh. “I asked if the kid saw the murder.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Why?”

Sooyoung tried not to show her annoyance. Investigating the crime scene always soured her mood. “It’s a legit question. He’s a witness.”

“Captain, don’t be this low. The child has nothing to do with this. If anything, he’s a victim too.”

Sooyoung huffed, eyebrows met in a distressed frown. The air was sharp with chemicals and the lingering scent of blood. “Yeah, you’re right. My bad,” she admitted, voice grave. Taking a steady breath, Sooyoung cleared her throat and turned to Yerim. “What do you have for me?”

Sooyoung accepted the notebook from Yerim and flipped through the pages, skimming at the neat handwriting there.

“The suspect confessed that she and her husband weren’t always like this. They lived in a small city near the Jeolla province before moving here around 9 months ago. She said the first few months were great. Her husband got a job as a bouncer in a club, the payment was nice, and everyone was happy.”

“His behavior changed?” Sooyoung pointed at a red-inked line that Yerim wrote on the page.

The officer nodded. “Yes. He became anxious, paranoid, prone to lash out. At first, it was verbal. And as time went by, he couldn’t hold his beatings anymore.”

Sooyoung flipped the page and frowned at a particularly graphic description of the beating that the woman had suffered. “She told you the cause?”

“Debts. Alcohol and drug abuse, all the fun things,” Yerim said, ignoring the disapproving glare Sooyoung threw at her. “The wife said a few hours before the murder, someone came to visit.”

“Who?”

“Her memory was kinda fuzzy. She couldn’t say because they spoke outside. But she heard something about ‘stealing salts from the mine’ and ‘you will pay with your blood’. When she asked him about it, he went defensive and they argued before he went ballistic and started physically attacking her.”

Sooyoung felt her chest squeeze but she quickly gathered herself before emotions leaking out. They were useless to her now. She’d been doing this for years; she’d seen the grossest shit during her job and emotions only tied her down, made her weak.

She looked around the room and her chest tightened even more. How many times she had to be in this situation? How many times she had to see families torn apart under this city’s vice and cruelty?

-/-/-/-/

A body bag was carried through the crowd of people outside the apartment building. Police officers were standing behind the yellow lines to prevent curious crowds from entering. It was raining snow, cold and biting. Grumbling under her breath, Sooyoung wrapped her coat even tighter.

The ambulance pulled off onto the road with patrol cars following them. Sooyoung watched them went further, blaring sirens pierced the winter sky like a premonition. She sighed, quietly fiddling with the badge on her belt. Whatever she thought about bringing justice to the guilty seemed more like a pipe dream. With this excess of violence in the air and the rooted corruption, there was hardly any justice.

“What are these people doing here?” she heard Yerim mutter beside her. Her tone was curt and accusing. “This isn’t a circus.”

“It is for them,” Sooyoung quipped as she began walking to her car with Yerim following behind. They walked towards the end of filthy blocks, passed by a foul, piss-smelling alley.

“There’s nothing fun about a dead body in a gurney.”

Sooyoung scoffed. “Yeah. They can go to soapland downtown. At least, they can see breathing, _living_ people there.”

Yerim jogged to catch up to Sooyoung. “What’s wrong with you, captain? You’ve been cranky these days.” Sooyoung didn’t answer. She kept walking, keeping her gaze forward. “Are you still—”

“You’ve been working with me for how long, Yerim? Six months? Nine?”

The officer frowned at the sudden change of topic. “Nine a half.”

“Yeah. Nine and a half months. And I still can’t shake one thing off my mind. I heard that you asked to be transferred from Daegu to here,” she turned to Yerim, her gaze lingered. “Why?”

There’s tension between them as they looked at each other. “I’m here for the same reasons as you,” Yerim stated.

A grim laugh escaped from Sooyoung’s throat at the statement. “What do you even know about my reasons for being here? Last year, I received more than a dozen resignation letters. Nobody wants to be here, Yerim. But you asked your supervisor to move here, even almost fought for it, when you can have an easier job in Daegu.”

People from the opposite direction didn’t bother to avoid them. Yerim threw a glare when one of the pedestrians bumped her hard on the shoulder while Sooyoung didn’t even flinch when she almost slipped on a wet patch. Sirens were still blaring somewhere in the city. It’s quite far, something’s probably happening out there. Another murder maybe. Nobody cared.

“And because you think Daegu is easier, it’ll be better for me?” Yerim challenged, stepping into Sooyoung’s boundaries. She didn’t even care if she’s a head shorter than the captain.

“It’s safer.”

“Look, I follow the protocol, I understand the risk, and you’ve seen how I handle myself here. The corps can do better with one less patronizing prick and you better not one of them, _captain_.”

Sooyoung narrowed her eyes. She’s utterly not amused with how Yerim talked to her, but Yerim wasn’t all talk. She was resourceful, quick-witted, a bit fiery due to her young age, and always put her duty above all else. Like Sooyoung, she didn’t take bullshit from the male officers and would gladly take their challenge to prove them wrong.

“You’re still calling the shot, Cap,” Yeri added, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “However you want it to go, I will follow you.”

Sooyoung just stared back at Yerim. Her lips thinned to a line. There were tons of ways she could’ve taken Yerim’s sentence and none of them pleased her. She exhaled a particularly harsh breath and continued walking.

“Do you want to know the club he worked at?” Sooyoung heard Yerim call from behind.

“Where?”

“Club Sanctum,” Yerim told her with a smirk. “If we want to start somewhere, we can go there.”


	3. Like Diamonds Reflected in Your Eyes

“Do you see anything you fancy?”

Seulgi turned over her shoulder. The store clerk was looking at her expectantly, hands clasped upfront. She blinked away from him to the door at the back of the shop.

“Is Byul in?” she asked, tucking her hair with a smile. “Tell her Seulgi is here. She’s expecting me.”

The clerk left with a nod and went to the register. He talked for a bit on the phone before disappearing behind the door.

The place was a small, hole in the wall shop between a secondhand clothing store and coin laundromat. It was far from the ruckus of the central block, and this shop had seen better days. The racks were full of antiques that Seulgi couldn’t even name some of them.

Dust and fingerprints were gathering on the display case. She picked on an antique clock. It’s rather heavy; there were few scratches on the backside, but the appearance was still good. Seulgi checked the price tag, scoffing at how ridiculous the number was.

“Thank you for waiting.”

A smile quirked on Seulgi’s lips as the door swung open. The clerk walked out with a shorter woman tailing behind. She raised a finger and made a motion for Seulgi to come. Walking closer, Seulgi offered the clerk a small nod before entering the door.

“Byul.”

“Seul,” the woman said with a curt smile and sent a stern look to the clerk. “Watch the store for me,” and cocked her head to the side for Seulgi to follow.

She followed Byul down the stairs and into the basement that double functioned as a repair room. There’s a desk in the corner scattered with tools. She watched Byul took a seat, hands picked up a handgun that had yet to be assembled.

A clinking sound filled the air as Byul started to work. She looked relaxed, completely in her element, as she tinkered on the gun.

“You need to find a new place,” Seulgi muttered, leaning back against the opposite wall.

Byul coughed at the comment as she picked up a screwdriver. “The rent is cheaper here.”

Seulgi caught a cabinet tucked in the corner of the room. It was open halfway and the poor lighting covered whatever that’s stored inside. “And dusty. And no sunlight. It’s a miracle you don’t get tuberculosis.”

Byul’s laugh was nothing sort of humorous. “What do you want?”

“I have questions.”

Byul’s hand stopped briefly and she put the screwdriver down. “Seul, I sell guns. If you want an explanation, go to the city square and find a city guide or something.”

“5K ambushed us on the New Year’s Eve. They came prepared. Machine guns, rifles, automatic pistols. And we know that those weapons were too rich for their blood unless someone was supplying them.”

“And you think I sold them guns?”

Seulgi threw Byul a look. “For your sake, I hope you didn’t”

The screwdriver was put aside as Byul leaned back against the chair. Her fingers tapped at the desk, knocking against the surface in a steady rhythm.

“I lost five crates of shipment before Christmas. Weapons, ammo. And I still got to pay in full for everything.”

“So, you’re saying that you were robbed?”

“More or less. That’s also why I couldn’t send you the supply on time. We have a bit of a shortage here.”

Seulgi nodded, tapping her foot on the dirty floor. “It was close,” she told Byul, voice low. “Some of the guys were selling us out to the 5K _and_ the police. We were trapped. And Irene almost died back then.”

Seulgi only trusted a few people. Some suppliers she’d worked in the past were out for money and wouldn’t rat out to the authorities if it meant a hefty sum of reward rolling into their account.

Seulgi trusted Byul. The woman was smart, knew how to keep her mouth shut, and understood how this city worked. Once a gang member with a notorious reputation, Byul quietly retreated from the gang life and paved an enterprise under her name. She sold weapons to whoever had the money to buy them. She never picked sides and that’s what made her an efficient, if not crafty, supplier.

“The cleaning hasn’t been doing well?”

Seulgi craned her neck upward. The air was dusty and it tickled her nose. “It is quiet now, but we don’t know when the other gangs will attack. If I keep purging the traitors, we won’t have enough manpower to fight.”

Byul laughed under her breath. “Great thinking, but risky too. You must keep your eyes peeled all the time.” She wiped her hand on the jeans and stood up from the chair. “But you’re not here to tell me all your woes. What do you need?”

“More guns.”

“For a war?”

“No. For protection. We have a new business coming up.”

“What business?”

“Drugs.”

Byul made a face. The dull glow from the lightbulb made her frown look deeper than it was. “That’s White Lotus territory. Are you sure about this?”

“Irene agreed.” Seulgi went to the cabinet and opened it. Tools and other parts were haphazardly thrown inside. She scowled at the clutter. “Damn, you work like this?”

Byul didn’t bother to respond to the question. “It’s not about Irene agreed or not. White Lotus can be a real pain in the ass, and you know how aggressive they are.”

“That’s why I need more firepower,” Seulgi replied, turning around halfway to look at Byul. “Just in case they decide to play rough.”

Seulgi picked the half-finished handgun that Byul was working on. She weighed it in her hand. Pointing it to Byul’s face, she pulled the trigger. A ‘pew-pew’ noise rolled off her mouth. There’s a sound upstairs; someone’s voice rang through the walls, but not loud enough for Seulgi to make out what they’re saying.

“Okay. When do you want them?” Byul took the gun from Seulgi’s hand, sending a warning look to the woman. The clicking sound annoyed her.

“Next week. Friday night”

Sighing, Byul fished her phone from her pocket. Her mouth was stiff when the backlight illuminated her face, and her fingers were moving fast on top of the screen. “Fifty percent payment as usual, and the rest after the goods delivered,” she explained as she put her phone on the desk.

Seulgi held out a brown envelope in her hand. When Byul reached out to take it, she quickly pulled it back. “I don’t want to hear excuses, Byul.”

Byul rolled her eyes but didn’t make any move to reach the envelope. “Seul, we’ve been doing this for a while now. You know how I work.”

“I know, but if you’re serious about your job, you would never let those 5K crooks robbed you,” her voice went low as she leaned closer to Byul. The lighting didn’t diminish the sharpness in Seulgi’s eyes. “I take that as negligence. And you know I hate sloppy people.”

Byul didn’t have anything to counter that. She looked at Seulgi briefly, taking a deep breath as she went, before sighing in resignation. “You can trust me,” she said, stressing every word.

The envelope dropped onto the desk, and Byul quickly shuffled it to a small drawer near the tool cabinet before Seulgi could mess with her again. Lights out, Seulgi followed Byul climbed the stairs, and back to the storefront.

Seulgi took a mouthful of breath. The dry air wasn’t any better, but at least the air didn’t make her nose tingle.

“Thank you for your business, ma’am,” Byul waved from the entrance.

Seulgi waved back and stepped into her car. The car revved up and left a thin smoke in its wake as it cruised down the street.

-/-/-/-/

Seulgi nodded her head.

Her eyes darted over the dancefloor as she let the music crawl over her body. The condensation of the glass left her fingers wet and cold to the touch; the ice cubes had melted in her drink as time went on. The burning in her throat seemed almost tasteless as her surroundings. The dim blue and red lights beating as the music lingered in a thumping rhythm.

The room was circular and wide. Smacked in the middle was the DJ booth, suspended by metal wires a few feet above the dancefloor. The low thump resounded in the air along with the cheers from the clubbers as they ebbed and bounced, too drunk and drugged to care about anything else.

Machiavellian eyes and Cheshire grins flashed under the vibrant neon, and someone snaked arms around Seulgi’s neck, pulling her closer.

The flashing light cued Seulgi of the nameless woman that pulled her in. Bright eyes, a beautiful face, and a mouth that spelled sin as she breathed into Seulgi. Lips parted, Seulgi sucked in the taste of cigarettes and alcohol. The flow of the dancing around them molded their bodies together; the fake gas from the smoke machine made her throat tight, but she kept her rhythm going. Salt from her sweat mixed in together when she pulled away from the kiss.

“Ah ah, not now sweetheart,” Seulgi tutted, pulling away quickly before the woman could capture her lips.

Seulgi cradled the woman’s face in her hands. Those eyes were blown and dark. Drugged. She’s practically hanging on Seulgi to keep standing. She wanted to play around but now wasn’t the time. She came here to work.

After sending the drunk woman into the back room, Seulgi went to the washroom to check on her appearance. Her lips were rather bruised because of the kiss, and there’s a smack of red lipstick on the corner of her mouth. She pulled the knob and cupped the running water in her hands, splashing it onto her face. The water was cold. The heater must be acting up again.

A man in a dark suit approached her as soon as Seulgi walked out. His hair was slicked back, his mustache neatly trimmed, and he wore square-framed glasses. Bowing slightly, he mouthed something to Seulgi.

Seulgi’s expression darkened once he finished talking. “Take me to him,” Seulgi said. The man nodded and walked in the opposite direction with Seulgi following behind.

The stairs took them to the second floor where the VIP room was. The walkway gave out the view of the dancefloor from above. She looked through the sweaty and nameless faces, neon kaleidoscope and colored lights washed down the drugged bodies that danced under the influence rather than will.

The corner of her lips kinked upward. Those people were nothing more than puppets. Easy to use. Easy to control.

The door opened to a room decorated in lanterns and thick curtains. Low lights cascaded the wall in a mysterious glow, and the air was reeking of booze. The men inside were looking like they’re having fun. Empty bottles littered their tables together with half-eaten food. Mouths puffing out smoke like a chimney. One of them caught Seulgi entering and made a foul joke of her with the rest were laughing like hyenas.

In the furthest corner of the room, a man was waiting for her. Next to him was a woman in yellow cheongsam kneeling in pain, hair in disarray, and there were cuts and bruises on her face. She was squirming, but the man’s strong grip on the hair preventing her from running away.

The man was eyeing Seulgi like a piece of meat. “Oh, you’re here,” he slurred.

Seulgi knew him. He’s one of the leaders of the local gang and controlled a gambling racket in the district. Ironically, he’s also a poor gambler and often losing his money very quickly. A heavy drinker and infamous for having a temper, he was considered to be a weakness by others. His bodyguard was standing near him, arms crossed and menacing. 

“Donghwa- _ssi_ ,” Seulgi greeted. Her smile was polite but fake. “What’s the matter?”

He took a drag of the cigarette and put it out against the ashtray. His grip on the woman’s hair didn’t seem to loosen. “Where did you get this bitch? Can’t even pour wine properly,” he spat. A wet patch was forming in his pants. “Look at this. She ruined it!”

Seulgi eyed the waiter. She had given up fighting, letting Donghwa jerk on her hair like she’s no more than a broken doll. Those eyes were watery when Seulgi caught her staring.

“Hey,” she diverted her attention from the woman to Donghwa, and her smile quickly returned, as easy as flipping a switch. “How are you gonna make up for it? These pants aren’t cheap.”

He lied. Luxury was too much for his blood considering he lost all his money in gambling. He’s also a known alcoholic, and his addiction had reflected poorly on how he handled the business. Seulgi didn’t understand why Irene let this living failure like this roaming around.

“My humblest apologies, Donghwa- _ssi_ ,” Seulgi replied, grinning. Donghwa was openly glaring at her; eyes red and bleary. “You’re an esteemed guest, and Ms. Irene often speaks highly of you. I will prepare our most prized wine to compensate for your discomfort.”

Donghwa laughed, low and rumbling, almost choking on the smoke from the cigarette he’d been sucking. A pained whine dropped from the waiter’s lips when Donghwa finally let her go. “Stop being cute over there and pour it yourself, _sister_.”

The way he pronounced that word was venomous it almost made Seulgi wince in disgust. Her face darkened at the way Donghwa and his goons were leering at her. Taking a deep breath, she whispered to the man in a suit and sent him away.

She picked a bottle of the most expensive wine she could find in the cabinet and presented it to Donghwa. The cork opened with a loud pop and Seulgi carefully poured the liquid into the glass. The lighting made the color of the wine look like blood.

Seulgi was too late to react when Donghwa grabbed her by the chin. Grubby, sticky fingers squeezed on the jaw, tugging harshly to make Seulgi face him. Donghwa’s face was horrendous up close. Pockmarks and scars, rotten teeth, and pungent stench of his breath, Seulgi had never seen anyone so repulsive.

“You’re pretty. Why would I let a pretty face like you ordering me around? Huh?” he growled, leaning dangerously close to Seulgi. “You and Irene… what makes you cunt think that you can fuck around in here?”

Seulgi didn’t move. Expression stone cold. He glowered at Seulgi, shoulders slumping as a booze-stench breath escaped his lips. “That bitch. Who does she think she is? The Boss was fucked up to choose her as a successor,” he lamented, nails digging onto Seulgi’s face. “What was he thinking by making a half-breed, sonofabitch like as a leader?”

Beady, drunken eyes clashed with Seulgi’s dark brown ones. She didn’t even flinch when Donghwa pushed his fingers inside her mouth and seized her tongue as if he’s going to pluck it out.

“Come to think of it. She’s too pretty to become a gang leader,” he laughed. Eyes curled in wrinkles as he coughed at whatever perverted images he had in mind. “You and Irene supposed to work here and suck my dick—”

His taunt changed into a pained scream when Seulgi clamped her jaw on his fingers. He thrashed and used his other hand to hit Seulgi in the face, but Seulgi’s grip was locked tight. Donghwa’s goons quickly rose from their seats to attack, some of them already took out their guns. But before they could pull the trigger, the door banged open and men in dark suits poured in, spraying them with bullets.

Seulgi finally let Donghwa off when a loud crack of something broken erupted as he landed a hard jab on her face. Seulgi was thrown back with blood coming out from her nose. His screaming turned to a cracking sob when he realized what became his fingers: thumb was broken, and the index finger was hanging on a sliver of flesh and muscles. 

“You know,” Seulgi called as she spat the blood from her mouth. “I don’t mind you calling me names. But Irene… Irene is off-limits.”

Donghwa was curling to a ball, whimpering and sobbing. His thin body was shaking like leaves under the winter wind. The bravado he’d showed a moment ago was just a farce. The alcohol wasn’t enough to keep the pain at bay, to keep him from _dying_ , and with how the way he looked at Seulgi, the realization that he never got out from this club alive had settled in.

“Please…” he croaked. Every fiber on his body told him to run yet he could do nothing but crawling away from this, _this terrifying monster that shaped like a human_. “Please, don’t—don’t kill me. Please…”

“I have no use of you,” arm reaching out, she put his neck on chokehold, holding him down with all her might. She felt him jerking in her hands, grunts turning into a pathetic whimper. With a jerk of a shoulder, his neck snapped in a sickening crack.

His body dropped to the floor. Lifeless. Looking around, Seulgi found the waiter was huddling in the corner near a corpse of Donghwa’s men. Seulgi approached her and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Seulgi inquired.

The waiter nodded; almost too quickly like she didn’t mind her neck would break from nodding so fast. Seulgi took the woman’s face in her hands to examine the wound. A cut on the temple, busted lip, bruised cheeks, broken nose. The injuries were worse than she thought. Seulgi fumed. Those would take days to heal.

“Patch her up,” she told the guards. One of them took the waiter’s arm around his neck and took her out.

A groan rumbled in her throat as Seulgi forced her body to move. She refused when a guard offered her a hand as she limped her way outside. Blood was oozing from her nose and soaked into her shirt.

The music turned her head to a pounding mess. The weird looks she received from the still-sober clubbers only irritated her more, but Seulgi didn’t stop walking. She’d prolonged her welcome here. Not to mention that she had to explain the mess she got herself into Irene.

It was when she’s inside the car she’s finally taking her first, real breath of the night. She listened to her bated breathing before closing her eyes. The rush of fighting had slowed down, softened her muscles, and left her exhausted.

 _Just a few minutes,_ she told herself, and she’s going to be ready again.

This was just another night.

-/-/-/-/

The door of Irene’s office was never this menacing.

There was nothing remotely remarkable about that door except that Seulgi noticed slight chipping on the surface. She should do some repainting, but that could wait. Then, she grabbed the handle. It was cold against her fingers and Seulgi realized that she’d been shivering.

Seulgi breathed. She arrived home very late last night. Nobody caught her as she tiptoed to her room while pressing the heel of her hand to keep the blood from making a mess on this no-wax floor. An icepack was still on the washbasin in the bathroom, thrown together with a bloody towel. It was swollen when she woke up, and she’d received some questioning looks from the staff. She could easily make excuse for them, but fooling Irene was another chore.

She pushed the door open. It’s not surprising to see Irene already waiting inside.

“Good morning,” Seulgi greeted.

Irene was at her desk with paperwork stacked in sloppy piles, typing on her laptop. It was the older version: thick, bulky, and looked like an encyclopedia you often found in libraries. She typed slowly, peeking at the screen after finishing a line before typing again. She briefly glanced at Seulgi when she sat on the chair before her.

“Morning.”

Irene didn’t say anything after that. Seconds ticked by. The silence was awkward as well as uncomfortable. Seulgi clenched her jaw and looked around, trying to find something _or anything_ interesting to occupy her mind with. She’d done it this time.

“Have you heard?”

It’s not unusual for Irene to speak softly, but something was different. It was sharp. Irene didn’t bring anything with her but Seulgi felt like Irene was pointing a gun to her face.

“No, I haven’t heard.”

“Donghwa’s dead.”

Seulgi stopped fidgeting. Irene stopped typing. Both of them were looking at each other.

“And?” Seulgi asked. Her voice was stable. Good. As if her broken nose wasn’t bothering her enough. Irene’s expression remained placid; eyes lingered on Seulgi’s busted nose for a second.

“I know he’s useless. He lost a lot of money and the business hasn’t been good under his supervision,” Irene surmised, brows knitted in a frown. “I was planning to move him somewhere else, but someone had another idea.”

Seulgi breathed slowly. Her lips set in line. “He beat one of the waiters,” she explained curtly. Irene waited, and Seulgi took this as a cue to continue. “It’ll take days for her to recover. Not to mention we have to pay compensation money too.”

“And that’s a reason enough to kill him?”

“He insulted you.”

Irene didn’t answer and even if she was surprised, she did well by not showing it on her face. She’s staring at Seulgi as a smile dangled on the corner of her lips.

“That was unnecessary.”

“It is for me.”

“Seulgi, I’ve been dealing with this for my entire life. Do not bloody your hands for something irrelevant like this.”

Seulgi’s jaws clamped, eyes narrowing. “That’s why it’s so much better to get rid of him. He didn’t contribute anything. He’s just a parasite. Nothing of value is lost.” Her tone went lower as she balled her fingers into a fist. “And my hands are stained already. Adding another blood won’t change a thing.”

Irene remained silent. Seulgi never liked it when Irene was silent because it could mean many things. They’d been working together for so long but there’s still so much of Irene that Seulgi didn’t know. Their relationship was mostly business. Sometimes they’d talk about personal things, but it was easily counted in one hand.

For Seulgi, Irene was like a cage latched in locks, chains, and thorns.

A hiss fell from her lips when Irene touched her jaw to inspect her face. “That looks bad,” Irene commented with a jut of her chin toward her nose.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Go visit Jennie. She’ll patch you up.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Don’t disobey me, Seul,” Irene quipped in a warning. “If you’re willing to kill people for my sake, listening to me shouldn’t become a problem, right?”

Seulgi opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. “Okay,” she said, relenting. Hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m going now.”

“Good.” Irene put the lid of her laptop down before focusing on the paperwork, tidying the stacks of paper, and putting them away. She pulled the drawer to pick the keys. “I’m going to the supermarket. Want something?”

“Supermarket? What?” Seulgi parroted. Incredulous.

“We eat food, Seul, not little children. And we need to restock,” Irene rolled her eyes as she exited the room with Seulgi. “Don’t give me that face. I need a time off too.”

“Well yeah, but what kind of gangster boss going shopping? You can ask the boys to do that for you.”

She heard a groan coming from Irene. “No. They’re stupid. They can’t even pick fresh fruits.”

They walked to the garage. The car unlocked with a beep and Irene ignored Seulgi when she asked for the keys. Irene was stubborn, a bit childish at times. And those little things often reminded Seulgi that Irene was no different from her. “I’ll drop you at Jennie’s. Call me when you’re done,” she said as she started the car. Her eyes were looking forward.

That was an order and Seulgi had no other answer than muttering a small ‘yes’. The security guards at the gate sent them a deep bow when the car moved past them. The driving was engulfed in silence. Usually, Seulgi would reach out to the radio and turned it on, but the thick tension coming from Irene prevented her from doing so.

“Irene—”

“Don’t,” the woman quickly cut her off. Her lips twitched. Seulgi could even see veins throbbing on her temple. “Not a word, Seul.”

This time, Seulgi obeyed.

-/-/-/-/

“Dr. Kim from Respiratory Medicine. Dr. Kim from Respiratory Medicine. Please contact the pharmacy immediately.”

The public address system had been repeating this announcement for some time. Seungwan was in the locker room as she listened to it. She took off her badge and hung it inside the locker. Her shift last night was uneventful. No major accidents, only a couple of drunks that needed stitches after running their hands through the glass window.

“Why did they keep paging him? Where’s he?” Seungwan asked Sohee. She’s also from the ER and shared a schedule with Seungwan last night.

“I dunno. I haven’t seen him this morning,” she said, annoyed at the question. She must be really tired, and Seungwan felt sorry for bothering her.

“You want to grab breakfast?” Seungwan said, picking a safer topic to talk about. Sohee stopped and glared at her. She’s annoyed, obviously, and Seungwan was ready to apologize.

“Ah what the hell,” Sohee grumbled as she closed the locker. “Let’s go.”

They arrived in the cafeteria. A janitor was mopping the floor; there were a couple of nurses sitting in the corner and chatting in low voices. The hospital didn’t offer many variations and often sold the foods in a package. Today’s menu was bread, scrambled eggs, steamed vegetables, and beef noodle stir fry. Nothing too fancy and that’s the point. People didn’t come to the hospital to have a culinary experience.

They picked a table in the middle. The morning news was on the television, but nobody paid any attention. Sohee was watching at her coffee while she stirred it. A forlorn expression started to form.

“What’s wrong?” Seungwan began as she poured a packet of cream and sugar into her coffee.

Sohee pressed fingers on her forehead, neck leaning to the side. She eyed Seungwan’s entire face as if she’s trying to unfold a secret. “How long have you been here?”

“Two years.”

Sohee scoffed. “Planning to stay here permanently?”

Honestly, the thought didn’t entirely leave her mind, but there’s always something else that distracted her from seriously considering it. “I don’t know,” Seungwan shrugged. Picking the mug, she took a small sip of her coffee. It’s terrible.

“You don’t know?” Sohee repeated. Mocking at her.

“It’s a hard place,” Seungwan reasoned. She put her hands on the table and threaded her fingers. “That’s all I can say about this city.”

“I don’t sleep very well.”

Seungwan was trying to be understanding. Usually, she had always had something to say. Something that sounded good to lift someone’s mood. She sneaked a look at Sohee and found nothing. Seungwan couldn’t say anything. Not even a simple encouragement.

“I… have nothing to say,” she said, apologetic. Seungwan felt ashamed although she had no reason to feel that.

The breath that came out Sohee’s nose was harsh. She ran her fingers down her hair. Seungwan remembered Sohee used to have beautiful, long hair. Now, it’s short and choppy and didn’t look as smooth as before. Sohee’s face was bare. Beautiful, but exhausted. The visible lines that began to form in the corners of her eyes made her look older than she was. Sohee moved to this city six months ago, and this place had sucked her dry, leaving her with nothing but a husk of her former self.

“I don’t understand why I agreed to come here with you. We rarely talk to each other,” Sohee stated. Almost bitterly.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Sohee was laughing again. This time, however, it sounded more like the start of a sob. She looked upset; her eyes were glistening. “Do you even know how hard I worked to become like this? I wasn’t the smartest but I studied hard, I followed the textbook, I even had to—” she cut herself off as if she’s aware that some things were better left unsaid. “I was promoted before those bastards moved me here.”

Sohee picked the bread and ripped it apart with her teeth. Looks like she did it more to curb her frustration than to sate hunger.

“You could’ve refused.”

“Not everyone has a choice like you, Son Seungwan,” she spat. Her tone was acidic that Seungwan couldn’t hold her recoil. “You can choose wherever you want to be, and you’re an idiot for coming here. And as for me, I did _everything_ to become what I am now. I want comfort. I was ready to put it all behind, but they just had to move me here. In this hellhole where I have to pull bullets from criminals' guts every night!”

Seungwan was suddenly defensive. Her mind went to those countless nights where she did everything in her power to save a life, only to end up defeated. “Criminal or not, we have to save them,” she said. The muscle in her face tightened.

“No. Saving criminals isn’t a duty. It’s a thankless job and we don’t even get paid enough for that,” Sohee countered. “I hate this city. How can you wake up every morning and think that ‘oh, this place is nice and comfortable, I want to stay here forever’ when we’re surrounded by all this.”

On the television, another news of murder went on air. The victim had no identity and he was found floating in the river with a broken neck and severed fingers.

“See?” Sohee chortled, shrugging to prove her point. “Perfect example.”

“It happens, Sohee.”

“Like, almost every day? Do you think _that’s_ normal? Are you living so high up there you don’t realize how grim and terrible this city is?”

Her voice was loud, enough to attract attention from the other visitor. Her face was crimson with fury and embarrassment. She stopped talking after that, preferring to use the food as a means to curb her anger. She bit on the bread before breaking the chopsticks to feast on the noodle. Didn’t bother to wipe off the angry tears that went down her face.

Chin perched on the palm, Seungwan inhaled deeply. The aroma of food and the cleaning product didn’t mix well in her nose. She looked down at her food tray. Her stomach was growling in hunger, but there’s nothing to make her want to eat.

The newscaster was still speaking in the background but all Seungwan could hear was the quiet sobs from Sohee, and her heart that beat in uncertainty.

-/-/-/-/

The overly peppy jingle greeted her once she stepped in. It played on repeat and she had to grit her teeth to stop from growling. She never understood why supermarkets always had a poor taste in music.

She made her way to the pasta corner. Eyes scanned along the row and they got visibly brightened when she spotted her favorite brand. She threw the packet into the cart along with the sauce. Then she proceeded to the fruit corner. _Discount 20% for the selected product!_ the sign said. True, she had all the money to buy everything she wanted but Seungwan never refused a good bargain.

Turning to the fruit corner, she picked on a pear at the same time with five long fingers curled on the fig.

Seungwan looked to the side. Her insides turned to ice when a familiar face came to view.

“You’re…” her tongue stopped mid-sentence. Suddenly, her brain was in shambles.

“Hello doctor,” Irene greeted. She sounded composed as she turned her attention to the lemons on display.

“Why are you here?” And she regretted asking that question because Irene was openly sneering at her.

“To buy fruits, veggies,” Irene said as if she’s trying to simplify a calculus equation to a five-year-old. She put four pears inside the cart and her gaze lingered on Seungwan’s face for a while. “I assume you’re doing the same?”

Their eyes met, and Seungwan thought nothing was romantic about that. The place was a regular supermarket, with their unflattering fluorescent lights and noisy whirl coming from the air conditioner. But Irene was here, standing in front of her, and Seungwan could see the sharp feature of her face or how disarming Irene’s eyes were. She looked so much better without the distress and a knife on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I am.”

Seungwan was eyeing the lemons but her attention was on something else, or rather, _someone_ else. Her interest in buying fruits disappeared. Now, her attention was on Irene, how soothing her voice was, and how Seungwan wanted to talk some more to her.

“Are you alright?”

Irene asked. Of course, she’d ask. Seungwan was openly staring. Anyone would find it weird.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking,” Seungwan’s lashes fluttered. The woman’s piercing gaze made her uneasy. Somewhat. “How’s your shoulder?”

“It healed well, thanks to you.”

Seungwan studied Irene as she continued picking on fruits. She’s being casual, but it was all well-feigned. Seungwan had seen how alert Irene was, how Irene was always ready to attack at anything and anyone that came her way. And yet they’re here, standing together inside a supermarket and doing mundane things like shopping, Seungwan was thinking that maybe Irene wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“And what about you, doctor? You look tired.”

Seungwan snickered. “Call me Seungwan. I’m not on duty right now.” Irene’s eyes widened, albeit slightly, and before Seungwan could make out its meaning, they returned to the observant look that sent a shiver down her spine. “And to answer your question, yeah. I’m tired. Just got back from last night shift.”

“Are you always working at night?”

“Not really,” Seungwan walked to the adjacent aisle where they sold canned foods. She idly picked a can of tomato soup before putting it back on the shelf. She didn’t look but she could feel Irene was walking behind her. “There are schedules. I got the night shift for this week.”

“Must be thrilling. A lot of things happened at night.”

Irene’s voice was measured. The sharp gaze she’d levered at Seungwan would make lesser men look way. Seungwan, however, didn’t look away. She boldly met Irene’s eyes instead, a small smile curving her mouth.

“Not exactly thrilling, but I’ve seen a lot of weird things happen when the sun is out,” she said blithely. “Just like when I saw you with that knife on your shoulder.” Her chuckle was grim as she craned her neck at Irene. “I know it’s not my problem, but what happened to you that night?”

“It was New Year’s Eve. It’s not weird to be a little crazy.”

The answer earned a bark of laughter from Seungwan, but it was humorless. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in my life but not like what you had. Seriously. A knife on the shoulder? That’s not something people would do to celebrate a new year.”

The quirk of Irene’s eyebrow was charming. Not to mention how gorgeous the small smirk that pulled on those pink, fleshy lips. “This is Red District. We have all kinds of crazy here.” Seungwan’s inside tingled when Irene was openly staring at her. “Have you had the Red District experience yet?”

“Like what?”

“Ah you know, like visiting the clubs. Some of the clubs here are _criminal._ In a good way, of course.”

Seungwan laughed and shook her head. “I don’t like loud places.”

“Really? What do you like then?”

The gears on her brain were cranking: calculating risks, gains, wondering why Irene would bother to ask what she liked. Irene could’ve left the conversation there, and Seungwan wondered if Irene was genuinely interested or just being polite.

“Jazz lounge, live music,” Seungwan tapped her finger on her chin, missing the look that Irene sent at her. “And wine,” she concluded with a thin smile. “I love wine.”

But Irene was paying attention to her. Those eyes were searching on Seungwan as if they’re trying to find a crack on the surface that she had perfected for years. There’s a tingle on the tips of her toes when their eyes clashed.

“Understandable,” Irene surmised. Mostly to herself. “Your job is stressful. I bet loud music is going to make your head spin even more huh?”

A middle-aged man walked past them. He smelled like cologne and cigarettes. His scent reminded Seungwan of barkers that distributed flyers on the club’s front. It’s not like Seungwan never tried visiting the club. She’d been there, and it took no more than fifteen minutes for her ears to start ringing and the flashing lights made her want to vomit.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“What’s your job?”

Irene shrugged. “I’m an entrepreneur.”

The supermarket was rather empty and no one else was around to scold them for stopping in the middle of the way. “Entrepreneur?” Seungwan asked again and Irene answered with another non-committal shrug. “Then why did you—"

“Business is a cruel game, Seungwan,” Irene took a step forward, prompting Seungwan to take a step backward. The shelf bumped against her; the clarity of this situation dawned on Seungwan like a slap on the face. Irene easily picked her defenses apart, making Seungwan comfortable, making Seungwan forgot that they’re strangers, that Seungwan _knew nothing_ about Irene.

“I, uh, I’m just asking.”

She leaned towards Seungwan. “Why are you so curious?”

Seungwan swallowed. The smolder in Irene’s eyes made her want to turn into a puddle and evaporated to thin air. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. Seungwan didn’t even know why she had to apologize.

“Don’t be. Your curiosity is… charming,” Irene chuckled. Eyes finding Seungwan’s. “But it wouldn’t be fun if I tell you everything now, would it?”

“I… think so.”

“See, you’re a smart girl.”

Something tender bumped on her skin. Her brain was still all over the cloud, a bit too slow to realize that Irene was in her personal space, and knocking on her forehead. She’s too close; Seungwan could even smell the scent of lilac from her.

Something inside her flared up. Her body stiffened. Nobody had ever gotten this close. Something wasn’t right about Irene. Seungwan wasn’t her usual self. She’s giddy, enamored. All she could do was only looking.

“Goodbye.”

Irene told her with the softest smile Seungwan had ever seen before sauntering off the walkway. No further words, no promise to see again, nothing. It’s anticlimactic in all sorts of ways, leaving Seungwan dazed, confused, and bewildered.

Her gaze dropped to the shopping basket on the floor.

It was still empty.


	4. The Night When We Learn How to Dance (again)

It was raining snow that afternoon.

The Red District was eerily white and quiet with only a couple of cars made their way through the main streets. The shops and restaurants were sheltering people from the cold. Their windows were tinted, some of the chimneys were puffing out smokes. Shadows of people sitting and walking around the shop were barely visible behind the tinted glass.

The wiper produced a squeaky noise as it ran along the car’s glass pane. Sooyoung had her eyes on the street as she hit the gas pedal. The car moved slowly, almost leisurely, and the inside of the compartment was comfortably warm. Beside her, Yerim was reading through reports. The glove compartment was open to store some of the documents.

“I hate snowy days,” said Yerim, throwing a stack onto the dash.

“Snowstorm is coming in a few days.”

Yerim groaned and pulled out her phone, thumbs typing on the screen. “It’s pointless to drive around in this snow. We should go somewhere.”

Her breath was heavy as she tapped on the steering wheel. “I want to go to Seungwan- _unnie’_ s place.”

“You do love to be around her,” she commented absentmindedly. Yerim was glancing at Sooyoung; the corners of her mouth quirked a bit. “Is there something I should know about it?”

“No,” answered Sooyoung, turning in the intersection. The car skidded for a moment before regaining its course. “Seungwan- _unnie_ is a friend, and I want to keep it that way.”

It’s not like Yerim didn’t know. She knew the history between Sooyoung and Seungwan. She’d met Seungwan a couple of times too, and she understood why Sooyoung was so comfortable around her.

Seungwan was kind and welcoming. It’s as if she didn’t have any mean bones in her. Not only she treated Sooyoung like she’s taking care of a family, but she also told Yerim that she could crash at her place anytime Yerim was too tired to return to her place.

This city was terrible all around, and Yerim had seen it breaking even the strongest people’s hearts.

But Seungwan didn’t break. Seungwan was an anomaly between the anomaly.

“Where to go?” Yerim asked again. “I don’t want to go back to the station.”

Sooyoung looked around. It’s impossible to go further during this weather, and as much as she wanted to go to Seungwan’s, Sooyoung didn’t want to impose more than she already had. “My apartment, then,” Sooyoung muttered, quickly sending a glare to the beaming Yerim before she could say anything. “Just for a while until the snow subsided.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Yerim saluted.

Sooyoung shook her head, but she didn’t try to hide her smile.

In the first few months of working together, Yerim told Sooyoung that her family was against the decision to join the force. There’s nothing worth to gain in this line of job, they said, and Yerim worked extra hard to prove it otherwise. She had a good head on her shoulders, a sharp intuition, and excellent deduction skills. The job forced her to keep everything together, to act mature than her age, but there were times when Yerim slipped off her mask and got excited over mundane things. Fragments of her personality burst out from the seams, reminding Sooyoung that Yerim was still too young to deal with any of this.

Sooyoung’s place was a little townhome in a suburb. It was two stories with a combined kitchen, dining room, and living room on the first floor. Not far from the entrance was the stairs that led to a bedroom and shower room. Photo frames were lining on the shelves, most of them were Sooyoung’s family and friends. The pastel color was warm, different than all the bright and colorful neons decorating the city.

“Sit wherever you like,” Sooyoung said as she placed her keys on the glass bowl.

The sofa was enormous, too big for one person, and Yerim felt like it’s swallowing her as she sat down. The kitchen was large, had shelves of pots and pans, but it had no table, no carpet, just the essentials. Sooyoung had no TV. Instead, the walls were decorated in documents, clippings, and handwritten notes. Pushpins were tacked to a huge town map, pointing at places in the districts. Red, blue, yellow, green strings ran from one pushpin to the other, connecting dots and places. Many of those lines overlapped with each other, like a tangled spiderweb.

“Found something in there?” Sooyoung asked as she stood beside Yerim. The young woman was having her attention fully on the map on the wall.

“This is…” Yerim said with her eyes following the colored lines on the wall. “This looks like a path. A distribution line?”

Sooyoung handed Yerim a mug of steaming coffee and took a sip from her own. “Yes. The distribution for drugs… or _salts_ as they said,” she nodded. “See these red lines, they belong to White Lotus. The biggest owner of the drug business in the city.”

“They’re everywhere,” Yerim commented as she followed the red lines on the map. “Wait,” she muttered to herself. Taking a step back, something on the map made her frown deeper. “The lines… they’re circling the hospital. This is where Seungwan works, right?”

The hospital was listed as essentials. A neutral place that didn’t have any affiliation with anyone and was under the government’s protection. The place was just off the center of the city, far from the noises of the clubs, and although they also tend to criminals, riots and raids were rare and there had been no attack until this day.

“It’s a good exchange point.”

“What do you mean?” Yerim inquired turning over her shoulder.

“It’s a distribution hub.”

Sooyoung sipped on her coffee. Once or twice, she took her car and circled the area. Most of the time, trucks from the logistic company entered the loading bay. But there were also occasions where pickups entered the place. It had no company logo and the plate number was colored black, a color code for civilian-owned transportation. Enterprise owned fleets usually had a yellow plate number.

“Distribution hub? Why—” Yerim stopped herself again, eyes bulging in another realization. “That hospital is also acting as a central warehouse for the medical supply that will be distributed to clinics in the district,” the doubt in Yerim’s eyes had disappeared and replaced with a glint of a different kind of excitement. “Captain, we should search there.”

“I don’t have enough evidence,” Sooyoung groaned. She took another sip of the coffee, teeth nibbling on the rim of the mug “What I have is just a hunch. The chief isn’t going to like it if we do a search based on that.”

“But he’s in a position where he can make an official statement.”

Sooyoung bit her lip. She had been requesting it for a while now, but the Chief would dismiss her and nobody else in the corps were bothered enough to care about it. “It’s too risky. If we search the place, then the gangs in this city will see it as an opportunity to break the rules and attack.”

“We can put more security.”

“No,” her voice dropped to a coarse whisper. “We’ll still lose,” Sooyoung said, almost ashamed at what she just said. “The city is run by gangs. They’re well equipped. Maybe even better than our SWAT team. We will not stand a chance if we go full out war with them.”

Yerim ran a hand over her face and combed back through her hair. “So, we’re going to keep on like this? Too scared to do anything?”

Sooyoung would ask the same questions if she still had an ounce of Yerim’s sense of justice and vigor. But that one had gone overdue. It went stale the more she saw how corrupt and unjust this _system_ was. Sooyoung still held her oath, still followed the code of conduct, but this city had screwed her one way and another, dampening the righteousness that was burning inside her chest when she first decided to become a cop.

Unconsciously, her fingers went to the badge looping on the belt. Sooyoung raked her fingers on the embossed letters. It wasn’t as glossy and there were scratches on the surface. She remembered the time when she finally got her badge, how ecstatic she was when a pair of arms swooped her into a hug and the voice that whispered, “You did it, Soo,” lovingly to her ears.

Sooyoung shook her head. What an awful time to reminisce.

“Captain,” something touched her and she turned to see Yerim’s finger squeezed her shoulder. Clear brown eyes were looking straight at her. “We will find evidence and solve this case. If we can’t search the place, at least we must find a lead that will prove your suspicion.”

Sooyoung’s gaze lingered on the map and stayed on a spot with a red marker circling the place. “Club Sanctum.”

“Yes. The place where the murdered husband worked. We can start there,” Yerim insisted, mouth crooked in a confident smile that Sooyoung found contagious. “How does that sound? Shall we go?”

“Maybe we should split up,” Sooyoung surmised after spending a few seconds thinking.

“What? You mean—”

“I will go to Sanctum. You go check the area around the hospital. The place is quite far from one another, but it’s in the same lane. If my prediction is correct,” she followed the red string on the map, tracing each stop, and let out a satisfied smirk when a line made a pass on the circled area of Club Sanctum. “They made a stop here,” Sooyoung said as she tapped on the spot.

“But we can go together.”

“We can save a lot of time if we investigate separately. I don’t want to risk a chance to bump onto someone we know too.”

Yerim’s brows raised in questioning. “Police visits clubs too?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sooyoung replied curtly, sparing Yerim the detail of some unsightly things some people in the force had done, and how they paid the consequences for that bit of pleasure.

Yerim was still unconvinced. “I don’t know, captain. I’ve done some research about that club. It’s not a place for you to be alone.”

Sooyoung scoffed. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.” Putting the mug on the table, Sooyoung rolled the sleeves of her shirt and picked an apron from the hanger near the fridge. All this talking about the case was making her hungry. “Do you want to eat something?”

“Can you even cook?” Yerim shot back with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Nothing too complicated.” Sooyoung pulled a pack of pasta from the cabinet, the instant kind that only took 10 minutes to prepare. “Spaghetti?”

A sigh rolled off Yerim’s lips.

“Give me extra sauce,” she said, throwing herself onto Sooyoung’s puffy, oversized sofa.

-/-/-/-/

The glaring light of Club Sanctum greeted her as she stepped out of the taxi. The letters were big and bright she had to squint a little. There wasn’t any queue today and the bouncer opened the door as Sooyoung got closer. It was freezing out here with a strong wind whipping to her like lashes. Once inside, the temperature went up almost too quickly. She pressed a hand against her nose as the stench of booze, cigarettes, and cheap perfumes floating in the air.

Her eyes absorbed the situation around her, flickering only to watch a dancer in the far right of the club as she courted another patron. She had a blonde wig, styled to wavy locks, and swiped on the right side. A lacy thong and red heels were the only other articles of clothing donned by her, and she swayed her hips to guide a customer to the back room of the nightclub. The dancer noticed Sooyoung was looking, sending a wink and lip bite as she continued leading the thug further.

Sooyoung groaned under her breath. Yerim was right. This place was _that kind_ of club.

The bar was further in the corner and it didn’t face the dancefloors where the strippers were at. She ordered a brandy. Not something a twenty-four-year-old would drink, but Sooyoung needed something strong to get her through.

Taking a swig, she winced at the burning sensation crawling down her throat. Balling her fists, Sooyoung closed her eyes to focus on anything rather than her throat. She looked at her empty shot glass as a thick, heavy burning rolled down her body. The music suddenly dulled and the circulating lights dimmed as well. Somewhere behind her, someone was wheezing a laugh that sounded like a raptor shriek.

“—gimme another one,” a voice appeared beside her. The bartender slapped a bottle of beer on the table. From her peripheral vision, Sooyoung watched the man downing the alcohol like it’s water. “That was refreshing,” he breathed in satisfaction once he finished taking it down.

Sooyoung quietly nursed on her empty glass, still recovering from the first sip. The man had his attention on the dancefloor until he got bored and turned on his seat.

“Oh, didn’t see you there,” he greeted. If there’s someone else Sooyoung would’ve ignored him, but there were only two of them in here. “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice was wispy, a bit weird on the ear, but still manageable.

Sooyoung breathed. She came here to investigate, and if this man was a regular, she might get something from him. “I’m not a worker,” her answer was calm although there’s an edge in her voice that she couldn’t hide.

The man scoffed. “Of course, you’re not naked.”

Sooyoung narrowed her eyes. This man was a foreigner and his face reminded Sooyoung of Dennis Nedry from that dinosaur movie. The aura around him was generally unpleasant; the way his beady eyes were lapping at her like she’s some kind of meat made her skin crawl.

“Do you like watching naked ladies?” he asked again, oblivious at how Sooyoung was openly glaring at him. “Because I rarely see women coming here, at least not as a customer.”

Sooyoung eyed the bartender for another pour. If she had to pull through this conversation might as well took something strong to numb her anger. Another swig went down the hatch, and she winced again. It still burned but nothing worse for wear.

“A change of scenery,” Sooyoung told him. Curtly.

He guffawed. Unnecessarily loud and annoying. “That, or are you perhaps playing for another side?”

Another swig. “I don’t pick sides,” she blurted. She felt hot either from the alcohol or the anger that simmering under her skin.

He put the empty bottle and turned to Sooyoung, offering a hand to her. His attempt to smile was looking more like a sneer when the lights flashed on him. His face was looking weird and malleable. Like it would wrinkle if you squeezed at it hard enough.

“My name’s Nate. What’s yours?”

She almost replied with Sooyoung, but swiftly changed to “Joy,” in the last second. She didn’t take Nate’s hand.

And that’s when she saw Nate’s expression underwent a disturbing change. Only for a brief moment, but Sooyoung saw it. His malleable skin twitched, and his eyes lost any recognizable soberness as if there’s a dark tar swirling inside. He pulled his hand back and his expression was changing just as fast. The light came back on Nate’s eyes as a smile made its way to his mouth, friendly but fake.

“What do you do, Joy?” Nate started again.

“I work in a clothing store.”

“Ah really? Which one?”

Sooyoung shrugged. “Somewhere in the uptown.”

“You must know much about fashion, then,” Nate commented as he leaned to the bar to get comfortable. “Can you recommend me something to wear? You know, to make the ladies like me?”

His suit looked cheap. It was a tacky cream color and too small. Some of the buttons on his shirt were struggling from falling apart; the pants were stretched on the thigh to the extent that the zip seemed on the verge of splitting.

“Maybe try to wear clothes that fit your size,” Sooyoung stated. The dark in his eyes returned; it’s fascinating as equally terrifying how someone could change at a drop of a hat. “Then we can talk about style.”

Turning her neck, Sooyoung scanned the tightly packed crowd. Few dancers shot their gazes to Sooyoung, some with wide grins full of teeth and suggestive smirks at the rare occasion of a female patron in the club. Some of the males were openly grinning at her, looking at Sooyoung like they’re trying to undress her even when she had her clothes on.

Sooyoung ignored all of them, eyes out for any suspicious activities. Maybe she should go to the dancefloor and join the wolves in their feast, but that’d be too risky. She’s the only woman in the club who’s not wearing thongs and lacy bras. And asking around would’ve made her stuck even more.

“What are you looking for?” Nate asked again. Sooyoung almost forgot that the man was still here.

“Someone good enough to entertain me,” the answer came smoothly. She looked at Nate, eyes raking on his appearance. “You look like you know your way around here,” she sang with her lips pressing on the shot glass. “Any recommendation?”

She heard the crowd howling somewhere in the club. “If you’re talking about bitches, I can recommend some,” Nate pointed at some of the girls loitering in the area. “That’s Sally, Mindy, Janis, Lola. Well, they’re my favorites, but I know I have a good taste.”

Of course, he’d say their names like something on the grocery list. Sooyoung breathed in another thick, smoky air to keep herself from doing something stupid. Like smashing a bottle to his head.

The music shifted to a deep, sultry beat of bass and drums. Sooyoung put the glass down and prepared to leave when Nate called her.

“What?” Sooyoung almost snipped at him. This place was a test on her patience, and Sooyoung was usually calm when she’s on the job.

Nate was grinning as he took something from the pocket of his suit. Sooyoung almost flinched when his damp, grubby fingers coiled around her wrist. Her complaints died when she felt plastic pushed into her hand. The strobes made it hard for her to see, but what Nate pushed into her was a small zip-up bag filled with white powder.

“What—”

“To help you relax,” he said with that grin still intact. “You look like you could use some unwinding.”

Sooyoung looked at the bag then to Nate. “Are you selling this?”

The fat on his chin was flapping as he shook his head at Sooyoung’s question. “Nah, I’m just offering. I can introduce you to the seller if you’re up to harder shit.”

She put the bag in the pocket of her coat and returned to her seat. Nate might have the look of a bimbo, _a dangerous bimbo_ , but he knew something that Sooyoung didn’t. “Do you know who?”

Sooyoung needed a name. If she got one of the names, she could continue from there and begin a deeper investigation. Hopefully, that would lead her somewhere.

“The name?” Sooyoung nodded. Nate scoffed and drank his beer until there’s nothing left. “I can introduce you to her. I think she’s not here tonight.”

 _Her_. A woman then. Sooyoung swallowed; her heart was picking up. “When will she come?”

“Dunno. She can be anywhere. She’s a busy woman,” he slurred, head dropping to the bar counter. Those beady eyes were looking dazed. Droopy.

Sooyoung resisted the urge to growl. “Name, Nate! Tell me the name!”

“…ugi.”

His voice was drowned in the loudness of the music. “What?” Sooyoung grabbed the back of his suit and pulled him off the table; her patience was getting thin as seconds ticked by. “Say that again!”

“Ugi, Luigi… Seulgi,” he mumbled, syllables were broken, but Sooyoung heard it and felt her insides flipped.

Pulling away from Nate, Sooyoung let her body dropped to the stool. Her brain was jesting her with endless what-ifs and possibilities, and she hated it.

That couldn’t be it. Seulgi wasn’t that uncommon of a name. There were probably hundreds of girls having Seulgi as their names, but Sooyoung couldn’t help but feel like the Seulgi that Nate mentioned was _that_ Seulgi. The Seulgi who had the kindest smile, the warmest hugs, and—

“Keep the change,” said Sooyoung, throwing crumpled bills on the table. It took a second before she could get her bearings and get out of the building. Once outside, she felt like someone was slapping her face with a cold towel, wiping all the haze and smoke from that wretched club.

She picked a corner far from the prying eyes and dialed Yerim. Pulling the collar of her coat, Sooyoung curled onto the wall to keep the cold away. Her shoes tapped on the wet pavement as she waited, brisk and impatient. Migraine began to form on the side of her head, not to mention the mess that’s her jumbled brain.

 _“_ Hello, Yerim?”

 _“Captain,”_ Yerim answered. She sounded exhausted but still alert nonetheless. _“I’m still watching. Trucks are coming but nothing out of ordinary.”_

She pressed the phone closer to her ear. Her body was trembling, and Sooyoung couldn’t decide whether it’s because of the cold or thousands of different things she’s currently feeling. Breathing deeply, Sooyoung straightened herself. “I got a name.”

_“What?”_

“A name of the dealer.”

_“You met them there?”_

Sooyoung shook her head. “Someone told me. A foreigner. He gave me a bag and told me I could get some more from that dealer. _”_

_“Are you sure? He could’ve been bluffing.”_

Sooyoung pressed a hand on the back of her neck. Yerim wasn’t wrong. He may be just blabbering his mouth due to alcohol. And yet, Sooyoung wanted to believe that he’s telling the truth, no matter how dubious it was. “Seulgi,” she finally said, almost wincing at how bitter that name was as it rolled off her tongue. “The dealer’s name is Seulgi.”

 _“Wow, you’re hella lucky, captain. I’ve been waiting here for hours and almost got frostbite,”_ Yerim grumbled. Sooyoung only chuckled. _“I suppose we’re going to discuss this matter further? Where can I pick you up?”_

“The bus stop. I’ll meet you there.”

_“Copy that. Keep yourself warm, cap.”_

The call ended and Sooyoung began walking away from the club’s precinct, ignoring the glare from a homeless man when she passed an alley. Lips parted a bit, a simmer of mist floating from the gap as she mouthed, “Seulgi,” under her breath.

That name was supposed to taste like honey, sweet, and calming.

She called the name again.

It tasted more like arsenic this time.

-/-/-/-/

Seungwan counted the time.

Ten minutes to midnight, _to freedom_ , then she could call it done and go home.

Working late shifts had never become a problem, but there’s a certain kind of unsatisfying sensation when the night was peaceful and uneventful. No, she didn’t get high by seeing people wounded, but doing nothing was worse than pulling bullets or stitching wounds.

And although the sweet release of finally having that eight golden hours of sleep was worth it, Seungwan never handled idleness well. She didn’t know how to sit still, always applying herself to some chores or bending over books, always burning for something to accomplish.

She walked out of her office. The hallway was empty as expected. There’s a nurse on duty waiting at the check-in counter, and Seungwan sent her a quick nod when she passed by.

The hospital was different at night. It reminded her of stories she often listened to when she’s still a student, how her seniors told everyone about some paranormal activities when they’re interning. Seungwan didn’t believe in ghosts, but she enjoyed listening to scary stories. Sometimes they’re silly, but other times they’d leave Seungwan haunted for days and had to watch some cute animal videos to help her sleep.

Her little stroll brought her to a long hallway that led to the storage room. Seungwan wasn’t always interested in how the hospital managed its inventory, but she was bored out of her mind so she decided to have a look. No one was waiting at the counter, and she flashed her ID on the reader before slipping in.

There’s a particular sterile scent of alcohol and disinfectant in the air, prompting Seungwan to pull the mask to cover her nose. The room was large and monochrome with modular bins keeping the supplies organized and accessible, and stainless-steel racks storing the more sensitive materials like surgery kits, needles, and syringes. She walked past the shelves, looking at the stock cards to check on the inventory amount. None of the supplies were empty. They’re always restocked before the counter hits zero.

The atmosphere was increasingly muted the further she went in. In the deepest end of the storage stood a door with frosted glass. There’s no placard or anything that told Seungwan the room’s functionality was. She looked around before taking the handle in her hand, twisting on it, and the door was opened.

It was a small room with a desk that was cluttered with folders and documents, old stainless shelvings, filing cabinets, and an old PC and monitor that Seungwan couldn’t switch them on. The place didn’t share the same clean, sterile air that the main storage had. It was stuffy with the faint smell of old papers and dust.

Seungwan frowned. Why would a storage room have extra space for something other than medical supplies?

She made her way to the desk to check on the documents. They were mostly a copy of medical records dated from the year 1975. She put it down and turned her attention to the book near the monitor. It was a plain ledger book that mostly recorded the shipments of drugs and supplies. Seungwan skimmed through the pages until she stopped at a certain date.

“Huh?” she muttered. Blinking, she read the list of the drugs delivered and noticed that most of them were banned in the medical field. The rest of the pages were also listing the same type of drugs. They were delivered regularly, mostly every three weeks. The handwritings were different in each entry and there’s no stamp and signage of the sender.

Her heart almost dropped to her stomach when she heard a creaking sound from the outside. She put the ledger back on the table and only had a few seconds to curl behind a sturdy metal rack.

Footsteps came in. Seungwan didn’t dare to look but she could make it out from the voice and the sounds. There were two people.

“Why is the door unlocked?” someone hissed.

“Darn it. Lee musta forgot changing the lock again.” Seungwan didn’t have to see the face to realize that one of them was the security guard that often on duty during late-night hours. “I heard there are some new goods in town?”

“Yeah, that woman is getting serious now. She knows her position is difficult with how her men were betraying her left and right and the others are thirsting to get that top position in the food chain.”

Seungwan peeked around the edge of the rack. She could only see a sliver of a navy-blue cap around the file cabinet that obstructed her view. There’s a scraping noise of paper flipping in the background; he’s checking on that ledger.

“Then we’re going to distribute both? Does Euntae know about this?”

Seungwan darted back into her tiny hiding space when the man started to move toward a nearby shelf. Her hands clasped on her mouth, both to keep her breathing steady and whimpers from seeping out. Seungwan heard a metallic thud as if something was put back in place.

“He knew but decided to keep quiet about it. He’ll keep putting on the pressure though. Can’t let anyone getting a piece of the cake he’s been enjoying for so long.”

“So, is there any change that I should take note of?”

“Yes. There’s an instruction. The distribution will be a bit different from the usual.”

Lights went out and footsteps shuffled out from the room. The voices were muffled behind the closed door before it disappeared completely.

Seungwan let out a breath, hands dropped to her sides.

They’re shaking as hard as her entire being.

-/-/-/-/

Irene just returned from checking the casino that Donghwa used to supervise, and quietly admitted to herself that maybe Seulgi was right getting rid of him. There’s no way that place was able to financially recover after the mess that Donghwa had done. But that would be a topic for another day. Now, she just wanted to go home.

The radio played softly. Irene wasn’t paying much attention to it. Fingers were on the steering wheel and eyes were on the lookout. There was an odd sense of comfort when she’s alone. The air was considerably relaxed; Irene didn’t have to force herself breathing through clenched teeth to escape the stench of stale alcohol and body odor.

All things considered, it’s unwise of her to drive alone. Seulgi had reminded her so many times about it, but Irene wasn’t always keen on listening. Being alone was rare and Irene loved to indulge in it every time she had the chance.

The car jolted over a pothole, one of many that caused accidents, especially to bikers. Outside of the entertainment ring, the district was practically just another dark hole. Dank alleys, homelessness, and the general negligence of infrastructure were common in the area that the lights didn’t touch.

She ignored the road that would take her to the outskirt where the lower class resided and took the left lane that’d lead to the central square. Her eyes caught the view of the hospital, tall and bright, like a beacon amidst the darkness. The government put a restriction on hospitals and named it as the safest place in the district, that they accepted anyone just the same despite their status and affiliations. Irene scoffed. Little did the people know the hospital was just as corrupt as anywhere else. They just masked it better.

Another song played. It’s one of her favorites and Irene was now mouthing the words to the songs, shoulders sagging at the comfort of the song brought her. Irene was thinking about dinner when the sight of someone sitting by the bus stop caught her attention. Drawing closer, Irene was able to make out a familiar face. Short, choppy brown hair fell just above the shoulders, color contrasting the beige coat she’s wearing.

She’s sitting on the bench, spine straight and lips pursed to a thin line. The car moved slowly as Irene turned her face to observe the woman. Something was off about her. She looked stiff and nervous with her fingers clasped tightly on her denim-clad thighs.

Something odd was pricking in her stomach as a voice in her head told her to stop. That was the best thing to do. Irene growled and shook her head. It’s stupid. Irene didn’t have the obligation to care. She only talked with her twice, and that didn’t make them friends. Not even acquaintances. That woman didn’t matter. She’s nothing to her.

But here she was. No matter how much Irene told herself to keep going, to step on the gas and moved on, she hit the brake and turn the car on reverse anyway.

The woman was visibly jolted when the car halted to a stop in front of her. Irene was constantly asking herself why she did this, how could she so stupid, as the window shuttered down to show her face.

“Good evening,” she called out to her. _What’s her name? Why does it matter? Fuck, what’s her name again?_ “Seungwan, right?”

Seungwan faltered, fingers stopped picking on her jeans. The round eyes and obvious surprise didn’t miss on Irene.

“…Irene?”

The voice was bright and clear, shaped with a hint of nervous tick that made it sound more alert than it needed to be. “Yes. It’s me.” She said, offering a smile. “Are you waiting for the last bus?”

“I called a taxi,” Seungwan shrugged. “But seems like they take a longer way to come here.”

Irene nodded. Taxis were pretty uncommon in this part of the district, especially at this hour. And even if there were any, they wouldn’t think twice to mark up the fare and rip you off.

Again, every rational bone in Irene’s body told her to leave. Seungwan was nothing to her and that’s how everything was supposed to be. “If you don’t mind,” Irene couldn’t believe she said it. She had to stop herself and yet, “you can come with me. I can drive you home.”

She heard a faint exhale of breath, a gesture of relief but Seungwan was still eyeing her with wary. “Uh, I don’t mind waiting.”

“But I do,” Irene insisted. Her hand subconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter. “It’s cold and it’s late, and I don’t think the taxi will come any time soon.”

Seungwan looked to the side and shifted on her heels. “Maybe they’ll come in a few minutes.”

“Seungwan,” Irene pressed harder. She wasn’t sure why she insisted but she did. “You helped me that night. At least, let me do something to return the favor.”

Seungwan’s expression was conflicted, Irene understood. Seungwan didn’t believe her, all the more reasons for Irene to leave. But Seungwan slowly stood up from the bench she’s sitting and made her way around the car. Irene didn’t let Seungwan off her eyes until the woman seated beside her and the door clicked to a close.

Seungwan didn’t say anything and kept her face down. Irene had nothing to say to break the tension either. The gear shifted, and the car slowly went off the curb and into the streets.

Irene heard the seat beside her rustle. Seungwan must have sat back to make herself comfortable, to let go of whatever tension that’d been burdening her. _Why?_ Irene questioned herself again. Why did she take Seungwan with her? Why did she have to care about Seungwan? Irene had all the answers, all the reasons, but it all didn’t match with the situation she’s currently in. It’s like she became suddenly stupid and irrational. Irene hated this.

“How’s your day?”

Seungwan asked her first. Maybe the silence had grown suffocating, but Seungwan sounded genuinely curious. A bit hesitant, but honest nonetheless.

“Same as usual,” Irene muttered, glancing briefly to Seungwan. “And you?”

“Me too.”

Irene nodded. Somehow not convinced but she didn’t pursue it further. “Seems like we’re making it a habit,” Irene said wistfully. “Meeting in a random place in a random time.”

“Must be fate,” Seungwan deadpanned. Irene chuckled at that.

“Shift ends early?”

“Yeah. Tonight is… surprisingly calm. No accident, no people wailing in pain. Everything is normal. Almost boring actually.” Seungwan was facing the window. She sounded dazed as if she’s trying to convince herself about something. “How’s the business going?” she turned to Irene; the tone of her voice was quickly changing.

Irene stiffened at the question but she quickly recomposed herself. Seungwan didn’t know anything about her, who Irene was, and that brought a small relief.

“Well, business has been slow and there’s a bit of cash flow problem, but nothing too serious. I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Pardon?”

Seungwan shrugged; her neck went slack on the headrest as she leaned back. “You look like you understand what you want. And how to get what you want.” Irene could feel Seungwan’s eyes on her. They burned her skin like embers. “Sorry,” Seungwan mumbled. Her tone was subsiding again. “I shouldn’t make any assumption about you.”

“I don’t mind.”

A nervous laugh bubbled from Seungwan, looking awkwardly bashful as she covered her nose with her hand. Irene decided not to look at her for too long.

“Have you been long in the Red District, Seungwan?”

And just like that, their conversation swiftly changed.

“A while.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m going to be twenty-seven this February.”

“I see,” Irene nodded. The city was getting closer as streetlights grew brighter in each mile. “Do you like it being here?”

Seungwan was quiet again. Fingers came together to fiddle on her lap as lip found its way under her teeth. Irene waited. The question was a bit too personal, and Irene was curious. Which was an anomaly on its own. Irene rarely let herself curious about things that distracted her and Seungwan fit everything in Irene’s list of distractions.

“I’d be lying if I say I like it,” she answered honestly. “What about you?”

Irene deflected easily. “The place offers opportunity.”

“I’m glad,” Seungwan mused with a sigh. “That you find something that you look for.”

The music changed again. Softer than the previous one. The slow strum of the guitar added too much to the mood that began to unsettle Irene. She wanted to switch it off but Seungwan was humming to the song and Irene found herself listening to Seungwan’s voice instead.

“Maybe I should try it,” Seungwan said.

“Try what?”

“The Red District experience and, as the kids say these days, unclench a bit.”

Irene laughed. It was louder than she usually let on. Seungwan was looking at her, surprised, but the smile on her lips was unmistakable.

“Maybe you should,” said Irene between chuckles.

“Got a recommendation?”

“Well, the clubs are mostly for those who look for sex and pleasure, but the pubs and diners near the city square are family-friendly so I suggest you start there.”

“You sure know your stuff,” Seungwan commented. The nervous edge in her voice was slowly chipping away.

“Some of my business partners are interested in that sort of thing. Oh, I forgot to tell you there’s also a jazz lounge near the square. You should visit it if you have time.”

Irene could hear a soft chuckle from Seungwan. “You remember,” she said, almost too softly.

“I don’t meet a lot of people who like jazz.”

“What kind of people you usually meet?”

“Backstabbers. Liars,” Irene spat. Her nose wrinkled in disgust but quickly stopped herself before disclosing too much information. The car slowly came to a stop as the traffic light blinked red. Irene turned to Seungwan, her eyes roaming Seungwan’s face, briefly lingered on the lips, before going up to meet her eyes.

And, again, Seungwan didn’t flinch under her gaze. Those eyes were sharp and unrelenting as they pierced into Irene, as sharp as knives. Seungwan was the same woman who was scared out of her wits when Irene found her a few minutes ago, the same woman who didn’t have any barrier and easily offered Irene her trust.

“Do I look like a liar to you?” asked Seungwan.

“You make me want to trust you.”

Irene’s throat went dry. She’s the first to look away and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back to stave the sudden heat that crawled up her neck. She didn’t like how Seungwan could easily unwind her.

The first time they met Irene was openly scathing toward Seungwan, the second was just a brief conversation in a supermarket with an awful jingle playing in the background. This time shouldn’t be any different. They didn’t do anything but talking, asking questions, exchanging banters, but this woman was unsuspectedly charming, intelligent, and curious. The feeling was like solving a puzzle. It’s entertaining as well as terrifying.

The traffic light was turning green and the car was moving again.

“I want to trust you too,” Seungwan said after taking a moment to recover. “I don’t have many friends here. My family is far away,” she stumbled and scratched her head in frustration. “I think… no. Maybe I just need a friend I can talk to.”

Irene swallowed. Something was crawling under her skin. “You do?”

Seungwan nodded. “Is it weird?”

For once, Irene wished she had the same conviction as when she executed those traitors. That fluttering in her heart wasn’t normal. It’s annoying. How control was quickly slipping away from her.

“No. It’s not weird.” Her brain was moving a mile to find something— _anything_ else to say. To keep everything from spiraling out of control and stopping her from saying things she’d regret. “Where’s your house?”

“Oh gosh. Oh my god,” Seungwan was panicking again and it worked well enough to swerve the conversation from taking the worst turn. It’s pretty funny how fast the situation changed between them. “I haven’t told you my address. Ugh, how can I be so stupid? I’m just wasting your time! Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I was wrong for not asking you first.” And Irene found herself smiling at Seungwan. Again. “Is it still far?”

Seungwan looked around to get a closer look at the neighborhood before answering. “It’s two blocks from here.”

“Okay,” Irene nodded and revved the car. Her smile, however, came a bit easier this time. “Let’s get you home, Seungwan. For real this time.”

“Yeah,” Seungwan laughed, nervous, and giddy. Eyes sparkled and there’s an adorable wrinkle forming on her nose. “Of course.”


	5. Is This Path Yours, or Mine?

It took Seungwan a moment to collect herself when she woke up that morning.

The room was warm. The carpet was fluffy under her feet as she slinked out of the bed. Slipping into the slippers, she made her way to the bathroom. She turned the faucet and cupped the running water in her hands. The water strung cold, and it helped to flush away the sleepiness.

She crossed through to the kitchen, feet padded sluggishly against the floor. Stopping in front of the fridge, she saw a sticky note on the sleek surface.

_Yoga class. Thursday and Friday. 7-9 p.m. Free for newcomers_

Seungwan peeled it off. It was dated three months ago. Not that Seungwan was keen on doing yoga, but she’d read articles that it was good for self-healing and inner peace. The note ended in the trash bin, however. No way she’s going to spare her time for a yoga class when her sleeping schedule was just as messy as it was.

She was in the middle of scooping coffee grounds into the maker when her phone buzzed. Yawning, Seungwan swiped her finger on the screen to answer, not bothering to check the name.

“Hello?”

 _“Seungwan-unnie_ ,” Sooyoung greeted. _“You sound rough.”_

“I was sleeping late last night.” Seungwan didn’t bother to hold it down as another yawn came to her. “What is it?”

_“I was thinking maybe we should have breakfast? Or brunch? It’s 10:30 already.”_

Seungwan winced, running fingers through her hair when she finally caught up. Seungwan’s face was heavy; her body was sticky all over. Exhaustion was ganging up on her the moment she stepped into the safe confinement of her room. All the tensions that hung up on her bones melted and turned her limbs to leads. Seungwan was passing out as she threw her body to the bed, make-up still caked her face, and didn’t bother to change her clothes.

“I need more time to get ready,” she groaned in annoyance. More to herself than to Sooyoung.

She heard a sigh from the other side of the line. _“Figures. I’m already close by the way, and I bring food with me. Is it okay if I drop by?”_

Seungwan looked around. Her apartment was acceptable although she had to clean up some clothes from the sofa. “Sure. Are you coming with Yerim?”

_“Just me. She’s working on something in the station. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”_

The call ended with a click. Seungwan put away her phone and continued making coffee for herself. After taking a few sips, Seungwan picked the shirts from the sofa and took them to the laundry room. The number of clothes she had yet to wash almost made her cry; maybe it’s time to use the service of that coin laundry across the street.

The shower was quick. Seungwan just finished slipping on sweatpants and shirt when the bell rang. Rubbing a towel on her wet hair, she made her way to the entrance and unlocked the door, and saw Sooyoung leaning on the wall in the hallway, a bag of food in her hand.

“Huh. You look none the worse to wear,” Sooyoung commented as Seungwan opened the door wider. She took off her coat and hung it on the hanger along with Seungwan’s jacket.

“Good morning to you too,” Seungwan grumbled and pushed the door close, watching Sooyoung as she rummaged the kitchen for chopsticks. Seungwan took interest in the bag on the dining table and pulled out two bento boxes and a Ziploc bag that held strawberries and some grapes. The bento boxes were still warm. “We’re eating a takeout bento for breakfast?”

Sooyoung handed her a pair of blue chopsticks before taking a seat on the chair in front of her. “It’s quick, delicious, satisfying, and one of the few things that you can enjoy without shame in the Red District.”

“You can’t control the salt in here.”

Sooyoung rolled her eyes. “You sound like a cranky grandma,” she added with a chuckle. “Just eat, Seungwan. I promise you, it’s not poisonous.”

Seungwan looked down and realized that Sooyoung’s portion was smaller than her. Holding back a smile, she opened the lid and surprised at the food inside. It didn’t look like the cheap kinds she often found in the stores. She took a piece of meat into her mouth and the taste almost made her moan in delight. Seungwan was confident with her cooking, but she’s always in a rush and hardly had time to prepare food for herself.

“Still having a problem with the salt content?” asked Sooyoung, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Shut up,” Seungwan snipped her off before taking another bite, ignoring the triumphant chuckle from Sooyoung. She looked at Sooyoung when she chewed on a perfectly rolled piece of gimbap. “Do you have a day off?”

Sooyoung shook her head. “I told them I came a bit late today,” she looked at Seungwan and pointed the chopsticks at her. “You’re not the only one who had a late night.”

A wry smile crawled up Seungwan’s lips. She could’ve had an uneventful night if she was smart and didn’t go inside that room. Something cold slithered down her spine as she remembered the bits and pieces of the conversation, and that long list of contraband drugs in the ledger.

“Seungwan- _unnie_ ,” she caught the end of Sooyoung’s voice calling. Eyes flickered up, Seungwan caught Sooyoung looking at her with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

Seungwan looked back down to her food to distract herself. Too many things happened last night, from the storage room to her unexpected encounter with Irene—

 _Irene_ , Seungwan mused. She’d be lying if the thought of that woman didn’t make a pass at her.

There’s something about Irene that made Seungwan couldn’t look away. Something odd, an enigma that intrigued her more than she’d like to admit. Irene raked on her nerves, probably in the same sense as facing danger, but Seungwan couldn’t exactly put her finger on why she’s so nervous every time Irene was around.

And yet, Irene was nothing but courteous to her. The first time they met was an exception considering the circumstances. However, Irene was considerably gentler, if not a bit crafty, the more Seungwan spent time with her.

And then there were those dark, haunted brown eyes that chalked it up to her odd, yet alluring charm. The way Irene smiled at her before they parted, how Irene’s hand was both firm and soft when she shook Seungwan’s hand.

Seungwan unconsciously chewed her lower lip, absentmindedly stabbing the meat with her chopstick.

She wondered if Irene would share one of her secrets someday.

A particularly loud snap from a finger rudely brought Seungwan back from her daydream. It was so loud it still rang in Seungwan’s ears for a few seconds. Blinking whatever haziness that clouded her mind, Seungwan found Sooyoung haughtily staring at her.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Sooyoung finally asked and put the chopsticks down. Her tone was suddenly serious, but not the kind when a police officer interrogated a suspect. Seungwan didn’t know what kind of tone Sooyoung used when she’s in her cop mode, but the question still made her shift on her seat.

“Nothing,” Seungwan parroted, almost embarrassed at how lame her excuse was.

“It’s not _‘nothing’_. You’re spacing out.”

Seungwan scowled. There’s still some food left but her appetite was quickly disappearing. Crossing one leg to another, Seungwan shook her head to make a point. “Really. It’s nothing.”

“I’ve interrogated some of the worst liars in this city, you don’t seriously think I’m going to trust you when you have this dreamy look on your face.”

Seungwan’s neck snapped at Sooyoung as she tried hard to keep the heat off her cheeks. “I don’t look dreamy!”

Sooyoung leaned onto the chair, arms crossed, and her eyebrows raised in question. “Okay, you don’t look dreamy, but I can tell that you’re thinking of something.” And Seungwan could only watch in horror when a smirk made it to Sooyoung’s lips.

“Don’t say it,” she warned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re thinking of it.”

Sooyoung was openly grinning at her now. “I’m thinking about you thinking of someone?”

Seungwan sat straighter as electricity shot down her veins. She almost choked on her food even though she’d stopped eating.

“Tell me, Seungwan- _unnie_ ,” Sooyoung was intentionally curled her voice at the end of her sentence. Eyebrows wiggled, and whatever dreariness that had been wearing Seungwan down since last night was immediately evaporated. “After all these years in this scum of a city, you’ve finally found someone that’s worth more than a friendship?”

Seungwan was sure she couldn’t blush even more than this. “Why are you saying it like I’ve made it official?”

Sooyoung blinked, trying to appear innocent which, in turn, annoyed Seungwan even more. “It’s not?”

“No, you dork. If I have someone, you’ll be the first to know,” Seungwan huffed, ignoring Sooyoung’s exaggerated coo. “It’s not exactly consistent. I just met her three times—”

“Her?”

Seungwan blushed even harder. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Sooyoung reached out and placed her hand on top of Seungwan’s. The squeeze was firm and reassuring. “We’re all God’s children, Seungwan- _unnie_. I have no right to judge you.” Sooyoung said it as if she’s a sage and about to bestow a piece of knowledge upon her.

Seungwan groaned. Only her family and a few of her closest friends knew about it. Telling Sooyoung was supposed to be easy, but Seungwan was still crumbling to the same old bundle of nerves when she opened up about her _preferences_.

“Well?”

“I met her three times,” The conversation seamlessly returned to the way it was. Seungwan massaged the side of her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “We had a small talk. I asked her a few things. She drove me home last night—”

“She drove you home last night?” Seungwan groaned. Seeing Sooyoung openly excited like this was rare, all things considered. She didn’t share too much but Sooyoung was acting like a girl hopping around in a candy shop after being deprived of it for years.

“We didn’t do anything! It was late and I couldn’t find a taxi. She offered me a ride, so I accepted it,” Seungwan clarified although it only made Sooyoung’s grin even wider.

“It’d be so out of character if you _did_ something.”

“Sooyoung!” Seungwan crackled and flicked a piece of broccoli at her, only for Sooyoung to easily evade the gesture with a quick tilt of her head. None of Seungwan’s glare worked to curb Sooyoung’s fit of fun although, in the end, Seungwan was grinning too. “This must be fun for you, huh?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m happy for you,” Sooyoung added. Her laugh subsided. The color of her face was softer as she leaned forward to let Seungwan know that she meant every word she said. “It’s not easy to find someone with whom you can share your heart in this city.”

Seungwan tucked hair behind her ears. Her chest was just as warm as her cheeks. The embarrassment had dulled and replaced with something akin to ticklish that went down to her toes, made her nervous and giddy.

“You’re going to jinx it if you say it like that.”

“Yeah, smooth sailing is a fraud, but hey, at least you can finally start somewhere.” Sooyoung was giving her a look, eyes soft and searching as she watched Seungwan fiddling on her seat. “And since I’m your friend, you must introduce me to her. As soon as possible.”

Seungwan laughed. The idea was stupendous, but she didn’t find any harm in it although she still had questions about Irene. Where did she live? What kind of business she’s working on? Who Irene was?

“I need to have her number first. Then, you’ll get your chance to meet her.”

Sooyoung cackled while Seungwan had a grin played on her lips while she took another bite from the bento box.

She couldn’t wait to see Irene again.

-/-/-/-/

The office she shared with Sooyoung was old with peeled wallpapers, a dusty ceiling, and a window that viewed the bleakness of Red District. There were boxes on the floor filled with documents and the likes. Yerim slid the glasses up her nose and reclined on the chair, completely in her element. Her eyes were following the writings on the file in her hand as she immersed herself in every detail.

The gang had no official name, but they went with Bound Street Gang. Others would call them simply as The Binders.

The origins had been varied though some of the records noted that it was named after a shanty area near the city port where a union for dockworkers often hung out. The Binders wasn’t a family business, but the bond between the members was close like one. Coming from the harsh economic deprivations of working-class labors, it was composed largely of young men of lower to middle-classes, although they had women joined their ranks too.

They started small at first, mostly derived from robbery, racketeering, and illegal bookmaking. After beating rival gangs for territory, The Binders was soon gaining influence. They expanded their dominance by absorbing small, rouge gangs into their ranks. A risky move, but it added manpower to conquer the more lucrative turfs. They dominated the Red District and established a pub on the west side as their base operation.

Soon, their business was quickly expanding to gambling, arms and drugs trafficking, real estate schemes, and, rarely, contract killing if the price was right.

Despite their reputation, The Binders were pretty private about the lives of their members. Understandable because the members were encouraged to have a family, which became a kind of subsidiary of the gang. The leadership had changed six times through the half-century of their operation: their last boss died of heart failure after serving a prison sentence. Following the structural system in the gang, when the boss died, the underboss might fill the vacant position until the council of top-level members elected the new leader.

However, there’s no further record of the current leadership of The Binders. Yerim had scourged through recent records of the group’s activities and found nothing that could lead her to a name. Sooyoung only told her one name: Seulgi. But she couldn’t decide if Seulgi was a member of The Binders or just a random drug dealer. If that foreigner was telling the truth, finding this Seulgi was only the beginning of something bigger.

The door creaked open and Sooyoung stepped in, a coat draped on the shoulders like a robe. Muttering a soft, “Good afternoon,” she put a cup of coffee on Yerim’s desk before trudging to her own.

“Where have you been?”

“Seungwan’s place,” Sooyoung replied curtly. She opened the lid of her laptop and turned it on.

“The girlfriend is doing well, I assume?”

Sooyoung looked up from her laptop, eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t spend my time with Seungwan and came here looking unbothered at…” she glanced to the digital clock on the wall, “2 p.m.”

Sooyoung groaned, visibly annoyed at how guilty Yerim made her feel. “How about we drop this and continue working?”

Yerim ignored the question and glanced at the cup. She peeled the lid and took a sip. It was sweet and rich with cream. “Is this supposed to be a bribe?”

“Whatever, Yerim,” Sooyoung huffed. She pulled her thick hair to a messy ponytail, exhaled loudly through her nose, and began clicking on her laptop. The air in the station always put her on edge. More suffocating than the smog that covered the city on some days. “What are you reading?” she asked when she saw the stack of documents on Yerim’s desk.

“The Binders,” Yerim put the cup away and returned on the document. She opened her notebook and wrote something there. “Records of their criminal activities which, I’m sure, you’re familiar with.”

Sooyoung winced. Yerim's sarcasm wasn’t exactly humorous. It’s dry and annoying, but Sooyoung wasn’t going to fight her today. “And what do you find?”

“Their last leader died around four years ago,” Yerim tapped her pen on the paper. “We don’t have any records about the successor. Do you know why?”

Nobody was willing to discuss it. The Binders had people in the corps on the payroll too. In this part of the city, The Binders was not simply above the law; they _wer_ e the law. The city provided gangsters with purpose and opportunities, so it’s a given for them to ‘protect’ their feeding ground from chaos and anarchy. They had been working in the business for generations, placing a firm grip in the Red District through monopolizing the business. There’s no way they would give up their position that easily.

“Last time I heard, they haven’t elected anyone since the last boss died,” Sooyoung stated. She opened a news portal and it only took a couple of clicks to get the news. “They always do a quick election to maintain order.”

“Or maybe they have elected the new boss but we’re too lazy to update our records?” Yerim deadpanned; her brow raised in question. “Come on now. The last update was four years ago. Impossible they leave such important position empty for so long.”

Sooyoung clicked another link to find more information. The latest major news was about the gang war on Christmas and New Year’s Eve. No mention of a new leader whatsoever. She put a finger on her lips and lightly nibbled on them. What Yerim said was basically everything Sooyoung had been trying to find out all this time. But every time she’s getting closer to the truth, the lead suddenly went cold or the Chief dumped her to take care of other cases that’d consume her time more than the one she’s handling.

“What do you have in mind?” asked Yerim.

Sooyoung stood and went to Yerim to look at the report. She flipped on the page and took her time to read, eyes scanning each line and detail. “You’re right. Maybe they have a new leader,” Sooyoung surmised slowly. “But they haven’t made it public. Yet.”

Yerim was quiet for a second before she snorted. “Why would they even do that?”

Sooyoung had the same question but all she had was nothing but speculations. “Conflict of interest, maybe.” She sat on the edge of the desk, pondering and staring into space, while Yerim waited. “It’s impossible they don’t have a leader. Many of the top-level members are hungry for that position. Four years without a leader must be a disaster.”

Yerim let out an impatient huff, closing the folder report and put it back into the box. She craned her neck upward and used her feet to spin on her chair. “So where do we start? Shall we find information about the new leader or look for a clue about the Seulgi you mentioned yesterday?”

Sooyoung’s fingers twitched. The knots from last night returned and twisted inside her stomach. Many years had passed, and yet this small part of her had to change.

No. Focus. She had a case to solve. There’s no point to think about the one that got away.

“How much money do you have?”

Yerim sniped her a look. “What?” Sooyoung ignored the question and took money out of her wallet. “Uh… around five thousand.” She watched Sooyoung as the woman turned off her laptop before dashing off to take on her coat. “What? Why are you asking?”

“Let’s go on a field trip,” Sooyoung proposed curtly and before Yerim could ask her, she already walked out of the room, shutting the door with a rattle.

-/-/-/-/

On the west side of the district, this pub was the heart of The Binders.

During the day the two doorways, marked by number 13, were looking empty. There were no signs; the fading graffiti of red and yellow adorning the dank walls seemed to indicate a state of abandon. But as the sun gradually moved west and darkness slowly consumed the remaining light, the two neon lamps on the doorways flickered to life and one of the shutters rose—the pub finally opened.

The pub was very different inside. Where the outside was dereliction, the inside of a pub was an excess of colors and bright decoration. Every brass was polished to a blinding shine, mirrors were gilded, and the chandeliers were twinkling as they hung from the ornate ceiling.

There were a group of men occupying the tables by the window. Others stood at the bar, smoking and drinking all kinds of alcohol this place provided. A bagman was rounding the tables to collect bets for the latest soccer match. Couples were rounding a table to play a seemingly endless round of mahjong, men were scratching their heads and shouted in disbelief of whatever the fortune-teller told them amidst the flickering gaslight.

When Irene entered, everyone in the pub froze a little. Men and women, all had their eyes on Irene as she made her way to the bar. It was quiet for some time until a sneeze broke the tension, followed by the noise of chairs scraping against the floor, and the activities carried on as normal. Irene was about to remove her jacket when the barman poured stout into a tall glass and put it in front of Irene.

“It’s in the house, Ms. Irene.”

Irene nodded but she put a couple of bucks on the bar anyway. She sipped her beer and looked down to the table, unaware that the couples on the mahjong table were looking over. One of them turned to talk to the person beside her before standing up, draining her pint with purpose. She zigzagged her way through the other patrons, avoiding the waiter with a tray full of glass coming from the opposite direction.

She came to sit beside Irene and appeared to lack the fear of almost everyone else.

“I’ll take the ale,” she said to the barman before glancing at Irene. “Hi, Irene.”

“Taeyeon.” Irene hardly looked at Taeyeon but there’s a tension between them as they stood side-by-side. Both women were attractive, the cool and intense kind of beauty that made everyone else paled in comparison. “You’re going to pay for me, right Irene?” Taeyeon asked when the barman arrived with her ale. His eyes bulged in dread at the question, but Irene only drew a shrug as her answer. “Put it on Ms. Irene’s tab, will you?”

Taeyeon sipped her ale but she stayed. Irene knew there’s a motive, but she kept her composure and let Taeyeon lay everything to her. Both women quietly nursed on their drinks, each had a different set of scenario brewing inside.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Taeyeon began. Harmless enough to start a conversation.

“If you’re asking about Seulgi, she’s doing some errands.”

Taeyeon hummed. “I don’t know that you’re keeping her busy.”

“You don’t see much being in the racecourse and getting chummy with horses,” Irene spat, a burning acid in her voice that made Taeyeon almost flinch.

“You look more comfortable these days, Irene. Starting to enjoy the luxury of becoming the big boss?”

Irene took a weary breath, almost on the verge of rolling her eyes. “Big boss that has a hell of job sorting who’s loyal and who’s going to put a bullet on my head.” She finally looked at Taeyeon and stared the woman right in the eyes. “Tell me, where’s the luxury in that?”

Taeyeon snorted. Irene wished for the ale to go down the wrong pipe so she could go and leave Taeyeon choking on her own.

“But at least some of them are starting to believe you. Comparing to how it started, I think it’s progress,” Taeyeon sneered. The glass was half empty but it didn’t seem to affect Taeyeon that much. “Look at you now. From a homeless orphan who dug trash for a scrap of food to the top of The Binders. We could capitalize on your underdog status, yes?”

Irene narrowed her eyes, not slightly amused at what Taeyeon implied. “What the fuck do you want?”

Most of the pub was busy with their activities but it was painfully obvious that they’re listening to the conversation. Kim Taeyeon, one of the senior top gang members, a strong candidate to become the boss of The Binders, and Bae Irene, the orphan kid who stormed her way into the rank of The Binders and managed to secure her position as the leader through blood and bullets. And while Irene was the leader, Taeyeon’s influence on the gang was the bane of Irene’s existence. Taeyeon only had to say the word and Irene would spend the rest of her life sleeping with one eye open.

Despite the fickle dynamic between them, Irene was trying to keep her relationship with Taeyeon amicable. She didn’t want to befriend Taeyeon, but having Taeyeon as the enemy would crash and burn everything she’d built. She wouldn’t hedge her gambit and the stakes were too big.

“People on the street say that you’re expanding the business. What is it? Drugs?”

Irene glanced back at the door where some of Taeyeon’s bodyguard was standing.

“Just trying to make a profit, that’s all.”

“The White Lotus crooks won’t be happy if they know that we’re selling on their turfs.”

“And I suppose I should let them sell cheap salts and take the money that’s supposed to be ours?” Irene shot back, eyes dark and confronting. “You know how much money they gained just from selling on our turf? Millions, Taeng! You think I will let it slide?”

Taeyeon didn’t immediately answer. She took a sip of her ale, letting her lips hanging on the rim of the glass. “No. You will not let it slide, but the concern is what are you going to do if they retaliate?”

Someone is singing drunkenly on the second floor. He was spouting gibberish and too out of acceptable range. Somewhere in the corner was loud cheering as someone won a game of poker. The night went on, the pub was getting rowdy, and Irene was starting to feel restless.

“Are you scared?” Irene demanded and received a mocking scoff from Taeyeon.

“I believe the question should be ‘are you ready?’ because,” Taeyeon shrugged and made a face, “these days, instead of killing our rivals, we’re busy shooting the heads of our men. Of course, I’m not saying that the traitors didn’t deserve it, but it also comes with a complication. We are short of manpower.”

Irene didn’t react but the way she looked at Taeyeon said otherwise.

“And recruiting new pups hasn’t been easy. Those younglings out there prefer to show their assholes and cunts to strangers in clubs instead of becoming rugged, badass gangbangers like us. They know that their face and body can make a lot more money when it doesn’t have a mark or a scar.”

Irene’s eyes went to Taeyeon’s face, noticing a long scar across her left brow. It looked deep and the color was darker in contrast to Taeyeon’s pale skin. Just like Irene, Taeyeon must have other scars scattered on her body as a reminder of the life they’re living.

A harsh, pained gasp escaped from Irene’s lips when Taeyeon suddenly put her hand on Irene’s shoulder and pressed her thumb hard on the spot where the knife had been stabbed. The pain zipped up her spin like jolt electricity she almost saw splotches of color in the back of her eyes. The stitches had dissolved but it’s still sensitive to the touch.

“Taeyeon…!” Irene growled through gritted teeth. Despite the small stature, Taeyeon didn’t budge when Irene tried to push her.

“You better think this thoroughly, Irene,” Taeyeon warned without loosening her grip on Irene’s shoulder. “Choose your enemy wisely. I know you’re not stupid.”

Irene was breathing heavily through her nose, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the scream from slipping her mouth. Taeyeon was looking placid as she looked at Irene’s face, red and furious with pain and apprehension. As quickly as it began, Taeyeon let Irene go and jumped off the stool. A weary, half-hearted smile quirked on her lips as she cocked her head to Irene.

“I’ll see you next time, Irene. And thanks for the drink.” She turned around and waved her goodbye, oblivious to the murderous glare that Irene sent to her.

In the end, Irene didn’t do anything and watched Taeyeon go. She turned back her beer and after a few minutes, after the pain and anger had subsided, she found herself staring at her murky reflection on the glass with a deep lament in her eyes.

-/-/-/-/

On the other side of the city, Sooyoung and Yerim were waiting in their car, parked in an empty corner near the city park. Yerim had her seat fully recline so she could lie down while Sooyoung was reading something on her phone. They had been doing this for hours and Yerim’s patience was wearing thin.

“What are we doing?” Yerim finally asked.

“We’re waiting.”

“For what?”

Sooyoung didn’t answer. Her silence ticked Yerim even more.

“Stop being secretive, Captain. At least tell me something I don’t know,” she insisted. A hint of frustration was visible in her voice. “I can’t help you if you’re not telling me the truth.”

Sooyoung’s phone buzzed. Again, she ignored Yerim as she quickly typed something on her phone.

“Captain Park!”

“Reset your seat Yerim. We’re going to have a company,” was all Sooyoung say. Her expression turned serious and on edge. She ignored the grumbling from Yerim and focused on what’d come next. After a few minutes, someone was knocking on the window. Sooyoung unlocked the door and the cold air made it into the car as someone entered.

A woman in a yodel sweater and brown chino pants entered the car. She’s middle-aged, with a lithe body and long limbs. Her bob-cut hair was hidden under the gray knit cap. The sweater she’s wearing was looking wet and there’s a trace of snow on her eyebrows. The smell of onion bagels wafted inside the car the moment she came in. She looked weirdly nervous when both Sooyoung and Yerim turned to look at her.

“Park,” she greeted with a nod and a terse smile. Her eyes lingered on Yerim in wary. “How are you doing?”

Sooyoung pulled a polite smile as best as she could. “I’m good.”

“I see you’re finally having a partner now.”

“It’s fun, working with someone.” She ignored the miffed look Yerim gave her.

The woman didn’t say anything. The leather squeaked under her weight as she shifted. “So what can I help you?”

“The current leader of The Binders,” Sooyoung stated without a flinch.

The woman’s eyes bulged slightly at the request. “Why do you want to know? They don’t have a leader anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Yerim commented. Her voice was sharp and low. She’s ready to say something else but stopped when Sooyoung sent her a warning glare.

“The Binders fought with 5K gang on Christmas and New Year’s Eve. A gang war is not uncommon, but I’ve seen that The Binders has been struggling to keep their turfs from other rival gangs and they haven’t gained a new area ever since their last boss died a couple of years ago.” She opened the glove box to get a brown envelope and shoved it into the woman’s hand. “Find me the name, information, their activities, or anything important. This is only half of your payment. You’ll get the rest when you’re done.”

The woman was looking reluctant. “I don’t know, Park. It’s hard to get something these days. It’s a big risk and everyone is on edge.”

“I just need a name,” Sooyoung insisted, feeling desperation began crawling in her throat. A familiar twinge in her chest reminded Sooyoung of those days when she spent hours in the data room, scourging files after files, to find a trace about the disappearance of that person.

The woman ran her tongue on her lower teeth before she slowly nodded her head. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do,” she relented and shoved the envelope into her pocket. “Give me three days top. I’ll call you once I get something.”

Sooyoung nodded. Her mind was spinning with words, images, memories, and alike. Breathing heavily, she turned to her seat and closed her eyes, feeling suddenly tired—

“Oh yeah, while you’re at it, can you check if someone named Seulgi is also a part of The Binders?”

And feeling her heart almost dropped to her gut when Yerim spoke. Eyes snapped open, Sooyoung almost snarled at Yerim but nothing came out from her mouth because, deep inside, Sooyoung was still looking for the truth, still looking for that sliver of hope that maybe—just maybe—the Seulgi she’d lost years ago was alive somewhere in the corner of this world.

The woman was looking at Sooyoung like she’s asking for permission but Sooyoung herself wasn’t in a position to decide, not when she’s trying hard to curb the dull pain in her heart.

“Okay…” the woman nodded again. She gave a quick nod of her head before walking out of the car and walked into the darkness.

The tension inside the car was sharp and suffocating. It took every ounce of willpower from Sooyoung to not snap at Yerim. Fingers curled on the steering wheel, Sooyoung counted to ten, breathed from her nose, and exhaled through the mouth. She did it twice until her skin stopped pricking and she didn’t feel like breaking anyone’s neck tonight.

The car rumbled to life and eased away from the darkness into the blazing city lights.

“We can trust her, right?” Yerim asked her, suddenly, just when Sooyoung had begun to calm down.

Sooyoung gripped the steer tightly and offered a nod instead, wary that Yerim could catch the longing that might echo in her voice.


	6. You Know My Name

She could smell it before she arrived at the entrance hall, the unmistakable stench of perfume and opulence that tasted like bleach on her tongue. Closing her eyes, Irene slowly took a breath to fill her lungs with air. The crowds, the music, the glitters did nothing to calm her nerves.

The grand hall was full of people in extravagant clothes, dresses, and tuxedos. Executives, CEOs, stakeholders, conglomerates, and millionaires were gathering at this party. These cartoon villains had traveled from across the country; some came for formality and some came looking for opportunity.

It was a voluptuous scene, this function. But Irene simply didn’t understand the purpose of it all. There were hundreds—or maybe thousands of guests, standing here. And they would talk at the same time, parroted whichever achievement like reading notes on the back of their hands, shared too much information which was not even interesting, and laughed at anything that’s not even remotely funny.

Men would brag about their jobs, even how many times they bed some random girls. Women would gossip with ugly sneers adorning their lips. Once or twice, they’d put their hands on the chest in a not-so-subtle gesture to show off their diamond rings and emerald bracelets, then followed with a volley of flattery with insults laced in every sentence.

Fifteen minutes into the function Irene was already bored out of her mind. Someone was taking an interest in her and Irene accepted his invitation out of politeness. He’s posh, with slick hair and expensive suits, and the smell of his cologne was a bit too sharp for Irene’s nose. He worked as an investment banker, apparently wealthy, and wasn’t ashamed of flaunting his morning exercise, beauty routine, designer suits, and boasting to Irene about the villa he owned in Hawaii.

“Sorry, I need to go to the washroom,” Irene quickly cut him off as he began mimicking phrases from the latest movie he’d seen in a limited release. His smile faltered but he quickly regained his composure and offered to accompany her, stating the hallway was too dangerous for a woman to be alone.

Fortunately for him, Irene somehow managed to resist all her natural urges to spike him in the neck with a knife, offering him the sweetest smile she could muster instead.

She escaped before her patience ran out.

Banquet turned her off. She hated that she had to shake the dead, clammy hands of these clowns. Nevertheless, only at the banquet, the beautiful people of the rich rubbed shoulders with the rat-faced, uncultured gangbangers.

The business needed protection. The gangsters provided arms and security for a couple of grand that these rich people had no shortage of. It wasn’t an easy alliance, neither warm nor overly antagonistic, but it had been going on like that for years. Both parties understood the rule and as long as they fulfilled each other interests, nothing could ever go wrong.

She’s not the only one attending the banquet. From her peripheral, she saw a few familiar faces from 5K, some from White Lotus, and others from gangs she didn’t bother to remember the name. Normally, rival gangs gathering in one place would always lead to fights, gunshots, bloody knives, shanked faces, capped knees, and, oftentimes, deaths to the less fortunate.

Those people were watching her. Their stares were licking like fire on the back of her neck. She didn’t have any intention to fight and she preferred to keep her hands clean until the night ended.

She found Seulgi near the buffet with men and women swimming around her, and Irene often found herself grappling in envy because Seulgi always made everything look so easy. She’s laughing at whatever the woman with the emerald bracelets whispering in her ear. Irene rolled her eyes. The woman was purposely pressing her chest on Seulgi’s arm. Seulgi felt it, but she’s too polite and courteous to push that woman away.

“Seulgi.”

Seulgi blinked at Irene, confused. Irene replied with a half-hearted shrug before walking away. “Sorry, ladies. I have to go. It’s been fun talking to you.”

Not bothering to wait for Seulgi, Irene focused her sight on that double door on the other side of the room. The air was sickening, the voices made her skin crawl. She couldn’t stand it.

Irene greedily took mouthfuls of breath once she stepped outside. It’s a typical winter evening: dark, cold, and dry. Irene walked down the stairs, passing a couple of guests smoking near a small garden. Somewhere behind her, Irene heard someone approaching.

“Are we leaving?”

Her gaze dropped to Seulgi, noticing the heavy makeup that caked her face to cover the bruise on her nose. “You know I hate gatherings,” was all Irene say before focusing her eye forward.

“They invited us. What’s the harm of coming here?”

“The harm is, Seulgi, that they’re not only inviting us but also the 5Ks and White Lotus, knowing that we are not getting along with each other,” Irene added with a scoff, mindful with her steps. The cobblestone pathway and the heels she’s wearing were not meant for each other. “Why don’t they throw half of the police department too while at it?”

“It’s just a banquet, and despite the bad blood between us, we’ve been doing a good job,” Seulgi explained; her expression was reasonable and it’s written in her face. “Though I understand why you’re weary. They know what we’ve been doing with our business.”

What Seulgi say didn’t surprise her. Bollocks if those people didn’t know anything about it. News in Red District spread like bushfire and Irene had been preparing for the inevitable encounter. It’s one of the reasons why she came to this banquet with a knife strapped on her thigh.

Irene quietly shook her head. She’s getting too paranoid.

“How’s the progress?”

“Nate said the shipment will be on the port on Saturday. I’ll retrieve the guns from Byul on Friday,” Seulgi said with a tone as if she’s talking about the weather. Her cheeks were looking rather flushed because of the cold. “We have a slight problem though. The director of that hospital has been asking too much since he knew that we’re using his place as the hub.”

Irene’s face didn’t show any sign of annoyance, but the stiff line on her lips was telling otherwise. “What does he want?”

“Mostly protection. He said it’s too dangerous to store drugs from rivaling factions, and he doesn’t want to risk his reputation by having White Lotus raiding the place.”

“Tell him that we’re using the hospital only for two months,” Irene added, her voice sharp. “He’s right though. White Lotus isn’t stupid. I’d rather have a war on the streets rather than a hospital massacre.”

Irene couldn’t care less about the prick or that farce hospital, but the risk of having a war with White Lotus would lead to another complication. The Binders had been having difficulty as it was, and her influence on Jiyong and the authorities was fickle at best. One wrong move and Irene would have her head put on a pike for the entire Red District to see.

Her fists slowly curled to a ball; frustration was simmering under her skin.

Taeyeon was right. Maybe she was reckless…

“Hey,” Seulgi called her again. Her smile was subdued; the garden lamp wasn’t bright enough to give away her expression. She squeezed on Irene’s arm in a gesture of reassurance. “We’re going to be fine,” Seulgi insisted and held onto Irene. “Not like I’m trying to undermine anything, but we have to focus, yes? This is not the time to hesitate.”

Irene stared at the hand on her shoulder before looking up at Seulgi and feeling herself smiling at the encouragement. She was about to say something when three men approaching from the opposing direction. The pathway was dark. Irene quietly slipped her hand under the slit of her dress, fingers pressing on the hilt of the knife. Seulgi was standing still and in position, ready to lunge at whoever came to attack them.

“Good evening, girls,” the first man greeted. Tall, middle-aged, with black choppy hair that pulled to a tight bun, and piercings on his eyebrows and nose. The collar of his crimson dress shirt was fluttering as another gust of winter wind breezed in. He tilted his neck sideways, his eyes roaming over Seulgi and Irene, feasting on them as if they’re some preys. “Fancy meeting you here, eh?”

Irene knew it’d come to this. She’d seen this man looking at her ever since the beginning of the banquet. “Excuse me, but who are you again?” Irene asked. Her voice dipped to an icy tone.

His smile turned to a scowl. The quick change of expression reminded her of that shady foreigner, but he was more malicious. Irene knew a murderer when she saw one. This guy right here fit everything in her checklist.

“Kyungho,” he said with a sneer. “You haven’t forgotten about me, have you?”

A frown appeared on Irene’s lips. “Oh no. You White Lotus boys always know how to dress for a party,” she replied, eyeing the skin-tight leather pants he’s wearing and wondering how in the world he could walk without ripping the fabric. “Makes me wonder why you guys haven’t expanded in the fashion industry yet.”

Kyungho narrowed his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Speaking about business, I heard that you’re opening a new shop.” He shoved his hands into the pockets as he took a slow, purposeful step towards Irene and Seulgi. “Boss Euntae is worried. He heard reports you and your boys are responsible for some _business activities_ in our territory.”

Irene watched Kyungho closely for any telltale of immediate assault. Seulgi, too, had been keeping her eyes on the two goons behind Kyungho. Knowing Seulgi, she’s concocting a plan right now. They’re in the parking lot; the place wasn’t that far from the main building, but most of the guests were inside the banquet hall. No sane people would want to be in the cold like this.

Irene hummed. She didn’t care to appear interested. “Must have heard it wrong.”

“You ain’t a good liar you think you are, Bae.” Scorn was apparent in his voice as he grew irritated at how unperturbed Irene was. “I think my homies are close to finishing plucking teeth from one of your Binder boys as we speak. You know, we caught many of them. Trotting the neighborhood like rats.” He laughed when he remembered something funny. “They couldn’t even lie to save their lives, those soppy cunts.”

That seemed to earn a reaction because Irene was visibly stiffening. So that’s why most of the couriers she sent always returned with a bloody mouth and infected jaw.

“And what does your boss want from me, Kyungho?” He pursed his lips as Irene smiled haughtily. “For me to stop whatever I’m doing and let you boys wrecking my turf?”

Kyungho replied with a laugh that echoed throughout the lot. “Don’t blame us that your gang is shit, that nobody trusts you except that bitch over there,” he barked at Irene’s face while pointing at Seulgi. He stepped closer and leveled his face with Irene. Not for courtesy but as a show of dominance. “You have no business in here, Bae. You have no one in The Binders to back you up. And it’s only a matter of time until you whore yourself for a scrap of food. Just like how your mother did to keep you alive.”

Something white blinded Irene’s vision. It’s bright and burning. Lips curling to a snarl, Irene was ready to stab Kyungho repeatedly on the balls when she felt a hand jerking her backward. It was a harsh pull, almost making Irene lost her balance, but that didn’t stop her from struggling to get away. Kyungho was openly laughing at her, and Irene wished she could manifest a gun and blow that smile off his repulsive mug. 

“Come on, Irene, not now,” she heard Seulgi murmured in her ear. Warm but no less sharp. The grip on her arm was holding her tight. “He’s baiting you and you’re smarter than that.”

Irene growled; she was thrashing to escape from Seulgi’s grip, but the woman didn’t budge an inch. “Get off me!” she hissed. The loud, obnoxious cackle from Kyungho only riled her even further.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure talking to you, gentlemen, but we must cut this conversation short. Time’s ticking and we have some work to do,” Seulgi declared with a calm and even voice, but with one look at her eyes, it was obvious that she’s as angry as Irene. Maybe even more.

“Ah yes. Time’s ticking,” Kyungho repeated what Seulgi said in a pitched, mocking tone that somehow made him sound like a strangled rat. “You have my permission to go back to your whore island. Go on. Shoo.”

Irene didn’t stop glaring at Kyungho as Seulgi dragged her out from this place. Teeth snapped the air when Irene passed in front of him followed by another loud chuckle. Irene met his gaze, unrelenting. Even the cold of the night was meaningless against the fire that burned inside her. She remembered this man. She’d memorized his face.

And, by the god, Irene would kill him if they ever crossed paths again.

-/-/-/-/

The bedroom was wide and had a bay window overlooking the garden. Gas lights flickered from the outside through the curtains. The house where she’s staying was far from the city, away from booming noise and flashing streetlights. It was a quiet night. The guards were patrolling the area while the others safely tucked on their beds and dreamed of better days.

Irene, however, was restless.

There was a war in her head. Body tossed lightly on the bed. Compared to the extravagant décor of the room, the bed was plain with linen sheets and a pillow. There were a water jug and a bottle of whisky on the bedside table. The thud of the bed frame against the wall was getting louder as Irene kept tossing and mumbling under her breath.

The red that bloomed behind her eyes woke her with a start. Heavy breathings escaped from her mouth in a burdened gasp. It took her a moment to comprehend that she’s in her room and not in some random dark alleys. She balled her hands to keep them from shaking; her eyes were blown and wild.

Irene ran a hand through her hair to smooth it from the sweat that had gathered on her scalp. Her knees were shaking as she walked out of the bed. The reel of memories from her past had been persistently ganging up on her; it blew up horridly every time she closed her eyes and harassed her in sickening images.

She poured the whisky into the glass and downed it in a second. Another pour and she did exactly the same. The alcohol slowly numbed her nerves and Irene had stopped breathing like she’s being chased around by the devil. She went to the window and pulled open the curtain to look out over the garden. The moon was beautiful tonight, yet all Irene could feel was a deep sadness as she stared out over the place that used to be blooming and full of life.

Now, the place was abandoned. The glory from those days had gone, replaced by decay and betrayal. The dining hall where everyone used to gather for drinks and festivities had been empty for so long, leaving the walls and ceilings rotting from years of abandonment.

Irene took another sip in a futile effort to quench the guilt that started growing in her chest.

Her eyes cast over to her phone on the table. She could call Jennie but it’s 2 in the morning. They might have something going on between them, but Jennie wasn’t a call girl that Irene could use any time she wanted. And while Seulgi had been by her side for so long, she would never dump her feelings to her. Seulgi was a partner, not her emotional anchor.

Unless…

Irene shook her head. An odd feeling pricked in her stomach together with her brain conjured another image. Not the dream. Not the blood. Not the shooting guns. But that woman with pretty brown eyes and a nervous laugh.

She opened the web browser, inwardly cursing herself for what she’s about to do. Why would she do this? What merit she’d achieve by doing this? And no matter how much Irene told herself to stop, her fingers had a mind on their own as they typed a name on the search bar and pressed enter.

Results popped out and there were people that shared the name Son Seungwan as their social media handler. Irene clicked on a random link, thinking that it’d probably bring her to a different kind of Seungwan.

It didn’t.

The page loaded before pulling up a profile page of the woman. With pictures.

Irene stopped and stared, clicking on one picture where Seungwan was smiling in the middle of a snowfield. Seungwan was gorgeous. Round eyes, fair skin, and puffy cheeks. Lips pulled to a smile that made Irene’s chest feel slightly lighter. Irene continued scrolling down the page and found out that Seungwan really loved baking (obvious with how often she posted pictures of fancy cakes and bread). Oh, she often told bad jokes and puns too.

Irene chuckled and quickly shut herself.

What? Did she just laugh?

And as Irene continued to dig a little deeper, she began to question herself. What was Seungwan appeal? Was it because she helped her? Because she’s kind? Because she’s beautiful? Or… because Seungwan made Irene feel safe?

Made Irene want to trust her?

Again, the logical part of her scolded Irene to stop creating a false image of security and comfort, reminded her that those things were not hers to take, and Seungwan wasn’t going to be there when Irene was just an inch away from death.

But her heart— _it’s always that damn heart_ , was telling otherwise.

It yearned for something that had been denied for too long.

-/-/-/-/

Irene woke up with a dull pounding in her head, and her stomach was growling like there’s a monster nesting inside. Last night was terrible all around. Social media was an evil thing. It ensnared you like a spider web and sucked everything out. Irene hated herself for spending the night scrolling down Seungwan’s account like a stalker. That behavior was unsightly, embarrassing. Her ancestors would cry for her.

She decided to go out to fix her mood. The atmosphere in the house was too gloomy and she’s bored of the same menu that the staff prepared every morning. After taking a quick shower, Irene grabbed her keys and drove out.

The radio played a song from the 90s that Irene knew only the melody; the words lost to her. She hummed quietly as silence didn’t sit well with her. She had to make a noise or things in her head would start singing instead. Irene’s eyes grew hot with a numbing sort of flame that would burn her in slow agony. Irene was tired; she wanted to stop, she wanted to sleep, preferably in a dark and gentle place where she didn’t have to constantly feel like a hostage.

Her eyes caught sight of a small deli sitting diagonally across the city square. Irene had nowhere else to go and turned the car to get close to the shop. As she stepped out of the car, Irene could see the place was thriving. Customers were sitting cheek by jowl as a pair of waiters juggled breakfast served to a throng of sharp-dressed businessmen.

Irene had never been to this kind of establishment before. From the exterior, this place was an antithesis of the pub where The Binders often hung out. The small steps that lead to the entrance were clean, the door didn’t lose a hinge, and Irene caught the scent of cheese and butter from the shop instead of booze and smoke.

This place was normal it made her nervous for some reasons. Taking a deep breath, Irene straightened her jacket and climbed the steps. She’s about to grab the handle when someone from inside already beat her to it, almost smacking Irene on the face with how brusque they pushed the door open.

“Oh apologies,” the person apologized although her tone didn’t sound like she’s sorry for almost knocking Irene off the steps.

“You’re blocking the way, Yerim,” came another voice.

The woman turned around to speak to whoever standing behind her. “Sorry, captain,” she said. Opening the door wider, she stepped aside to let Irene enter. “After you.”

Irene didn’t bother to reply and sauntered inside. She kept her gaze forward, ignoring the look from the taller woman who stood behind that Yerim fellow. Irene didn’t come here to fight. Her stomach was growling again and the smell of food only turned her mouth watery.

Irene squeezed into a seat near the window. A waiter greeted her with a smile, placing a cup of coffee on the table and offering Irene the menu. It had pictures of the food and while Irene was actually fine with anything, she skimmed the pages to look for a picture that piqued her interest.

“Full breakfast, please,” she finally tapped on the picture after turning the pages back and forth. The waiter nodded in affirmation before taking back the book. Irene could hear him yelling the order as he made another round to the other tables.

Now that she’s alone again, Irene let out a breath. She wasn’t familiar with the place, but there’s a sort of odd comfort that she couldn’t find anywhere else. Not even in her house. The crowds around her were just normal people trying to get by. They didn’t care about the darkness that loomed behind the bright neon lights, didn’t have to look twice behind their shoulders in case someone would come to shank them on the back.

They’re just normal people living their normal lives, and Irene’s heart twisted even more. She should’ve hated them— _hated_ the normalcy and the routine, but the ache in her heart wasn’t anger. It’s—

“Irene?”

Her head snapped up. Surprise showed plainly on her face, eyes widened and mouth opened.

In the sunlight of the deli, Irene could see Seungwan much better. She was smaller, a bit shorter, and everything about Seungwan was very well put together. Smooth, creamy skin, and there’s a curiosity sparkled like stars in her eyes that made Irene unable to look away. White teeth pulled on the plump lips that had a lighter shade of pink. She looked warm in her brown coat and v-neck shirt. Irene could only watch. Seungwan was indeed beautiful.

“Hello,” Irene replied, almost stuttering.

Seungwan’s smile was just as charming as Irene remembered. “Another random meeting huh?”

“The district is not that big,” Irene reasoned as she quietly observed Seungwan. “Are you in a hurry?”

“No. Why?”

“I need a company,” Irene replied and Seungwan’s smile faltered.

She met Irene’s stare, and those eyes were looking unsure. Of course, Seungwan would look at her like that. Irene opened her mouth to tell Seungwan off, but it cut off when she saw the woman slowly pulled on the chair and sat in front of her.

They shared a moment.

Seungwan was sitting straight and poised, her fingers clasped on the table to show Irene that she had nothing to hide. Irene did a sweeping look over the area around them, nothing was out of the ordinary. They’re surrounded by strangers, and once it’d done, Irene let her shoulders loose and leaned on the chair. She picked the cup and drank her coffee, wincing at the taste. Irene never liked coffee.

“Are you…” Seungwan started then stopped to chew on her lip, brow creased as if she’s looking for something to say. “Are you going to work?”

Irene’s chest tightened. She wanted to laugh but managed to pull out a smile. “I take a day off.”

“Oh,” Seungwan nodded slowly, her lips tugged downward.

“What about you? Hospital is keeping you busy?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Have you got the chance to visit the jazz lounge I told you before?”

“No. I haven’t found time to go there.”

The waiter came with the food and placed the dish between them. He muttered, ‘enjoy your food,’ but nobody paid attention to him. Irene took two sets of forks and knives and put a pair next to Seungwan’s hand. The woman looked at her with a raised brow. “Just in case you fancy the toasts and the sausages,” Irene explained before Seungwan could ask. She cut the piece of her toast and topped it with eggs and sausages. There’s nothing special about it, but Irene was so deprived of food she almost cried when the taste burst in her mouth.

Seungwan was openly staring, but she said nothing that would clue Irene of what she’s thinking. Again, Irene almost scoffed. What’s stopping Seungwan from asking? Why did she have to act like she’s not bothered? Was she scared?

“What do you want to know, Seungwan?” Irene asked. Seungwan was shifting on her seat like a student caught cheating. “You’re looking at me with such curiosity, and I wonder if I put my make up the wrong way,” she continued, throwing a laugh. It was strained and awkward, clouded by the unsteady beating of her heart. “You can talk, you know. I don’t mind.”

Seungwan unclenched her fingers before clenching them again. A nervous gesture, Irene noticed. “You said you’re having a business, right? What kind of business?”

“I work on so many things, but it's mostly logistics, distribution, and trading,” Irene answered as she wiped the grease off her mouth. It’s not exactly wrong although she couldn’t disclose what kind of ‘goods’ that she traded.

“And that woman with you? Seulgi, right?” Irene nodded. “Is she working with you?”

“She’s a business partner if you’re curious. We came a long way together.”

Irene didn’t want to read into it but now that Seungwan was before her, she could see tiny gestures and subtlety that Seungwan was trying to hide. Seungwan wasn’t good at cloaking her emotions. The way her eyes darted to Irene before turning sideways, how she shifted on the chair, how her knuckles were starting to turn white at how hard she furled her fists.

Irene decided to bite the bullet.

“Are you scared of me?”

Seungwan’s neck swiveled. Bewildered at the question.

“Yes. I’m scared of you,” she said, looking Irene right in the eyes. Such a bold gesture for someone who admitted to harbor such feelings.

“And yet you’re still here,” Irene pointed.

Seungwan’s throat bobbed, taken aback by the statement. She sat straight and shoulders squared. “I don’t know why I’m here too,” Seungwan reasoned. She didn’t laugh, not even stammered. Irene searched Seungwan’s face for deception but none was present, and she wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not. “I just…” Seungwan trailed, mouth slightly opened. “Maybe I just want to trust you.”

Irene repeated the sentence inside her head, feeling it wash down her body like cold water after a sweltering day. It was quiet between them again, and Irene’s heart was chorusing in her chest. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are we now, eh? Friends?” Irene questioned. She almost choked on her spit when she mentioned that word too. Seungwan didn’t answer so Irene asked her again. “You want us to be friends?”

“Do you want us to be?” Seungwan questioned her back, pointedly staring into Irene like she’s trying to take a glimpse of her soul. “Because I can tell that you’re not here to make friends,” she leaned closer. There’s no hesitation in her eyes. “You don’t trust anyone.”

Irene pursed her lips. She was about to say another excuse but her nerves were getting the best of her. The coffee went down her throat in an audible gulp. A tired, rueful groan dropped off her mouth at the burning sensation.

“I have no sob backstory or anything, but…” Irene could hear a tremble in her voice. Not because of the cold. It’s something else entirely. Something raw. Vulnerable. Irene looked to the side, but there’s nothing she could do to escape from Seungwan’s disarming eyes. “I’ve never met anyone who can give trust that easily. Never find a good reason why I have to trust others too.” A beat. The crowds around them seemed to disappear, and Irene began to hear the voices in her head again. “It always ended badly, trusting others.”

It took Irene a few seconds to regain her bearings. She didn’t look at Seungwan. If she wanted to leave, Irene would let her leave, no begging, no excuse. Seungwan belonged to these people, to the normalcy. And while normalcy made Irene’s blood boil, she had no intention to corrupt someone else’s life. Especially not Seungwan.

“You’re not wrong,” Seungwan sighed. Her expression darkened. It didn’t suit her. “I can’t force you to feel otherwise.”

“So, what now? You still want to befriend me?”

Seungwan chuckled darkly and sat back, shrugging in a resigned manner. “I didn’t refuse your request to keep you company, did I?”

Something clicked and Irene was surprised, again. Seungwan was telling nothing but the truth. She openly admitted that she’s scared of Irene, and yet she’s staying instead of running away. Anyone else would leave, but Seungwan was here. Irene didn’t need to feel this happy, but the flutter in her stomach was something else.

“Are you working today?” Irene asked, suddenly. It broke the tension between them.

“Yeah. I should be in the hospital right now, actually.”

“What time do you finish work?”

“Around 8.”

“Let’s go to that jazz lounge. Tonight.”

Seungwan’s mouth opened in a panicked husk. “Irene—”

Irene always brought a small notebook with her. She ripped a page and pulled out a pen from her jacket. She didn’t know what came to her. There must be something in that coffee, or maybe she’d gone crazy, but Irene was writing a string of numbers and an address. She pushed the paper to Seungwan’s hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Irene smiled, letting her fingers lingered for a while on Seungwan’s skin. “And…uh, I’m not going to get angry if you don’t want to come.”

Seungwan’s eyes followed her as she slinked out of her chair. Another smile pulled at Irene’s lips as she nodded her goodbye. “See you again, Seungwan.”

And Irene left before Seungwan could say a thing.

-/-/-/-/

The dining hall was rowdy compared to other areas. Twenty uniformed police officers sat in rows of hard-backed chairs with smoke rose from them. It was lunchtime; some of the officers were eating, some were playing cards. The conversation blended with a booming laugh and exasperated yell. This place looked more like a high school cafeteria than a police station.

Sooyoung picked a place where the noise didn’t quite reach her. On the table was a pack of egg sandwiches and orange juice that she bought from the deli this morning, but Sooyoung’s attention was on her phone. She’d been locking and unlocking the screen; foot jiggled anxiously as if there’s a ticking time bomb somewhere.

She almost knocked her knee on the table when her phone suddenly buzzed. It had neither name nor visible number. A call from a burnt phone, but Sooyoung already knew who it was. Finger sliding on the screen, she walked out of the hall to a secluded corner near the cleaning room.

“Yes?”

_“Got something for you, boss. The Binders is moving. They bought seven crates of guns and ammo due this Friday.”_

Sooyoung frowned. “Christ, seven is a bit too much. Are they going to war or something?”

_“They’re doing the crack business now, openly competing against the White Lotus. It’s only a matter of time.”_

Sooyoung swallowed. Those two gangs had been a rival for generations. Bloody skirmishes between them were more like sports festivals.

 _“I’ll send you the place where they might retrieve the crates._ ”

“Okay,” said Sooyoung curtly. “I’ll drop the money in as usual. Thanks.”

 _“Oh, and one more thing,”_ Sooyoung stopped halfway. _“I also checked about Seulgi that your friend mentioned.”_

Sooyoung stiffened. Her heart was picking up.

“And?”

_“I tried to find more information, but nothing significant came out. What I know is that she’s taking care of most of The Binders' jobs, including this new crack business. And she’s also involved in the succession crisis that happened 4 years ago.”_

“Succession crisis?”

_“Yeah. The previous boss didn’t die because of sickness. He was killed by his own men. To put it simply, The Binders was in shambles during that time. They betrayed each other and killed more of their kin than their rivals.”_

“And Seulgi is their leader now?” Sooyoung inquired. She ignored the growing bitterness on her tongue.

_“Nope. The boss is a gal named Bae Irene, and Seulgi has been serving her ever since.”_

“Do you…” Sooyoung swallowed, breathing slowly. “Do you have the picture too?”

_“You sure you want to see it?”_

“I pay you.”

Another silence, followed by a heavy, defeated sigh.

_“Alright. Bye Sooyoung.”_

The call ended. Not long after that, her phone buzzed as two messages popped on the screen. The first one was a coordinate and the second one was a picture of two women walked out from a black sedan. Sooyoung paid no mind to the short one. Her attention was on the one with the low ponytail and black turtleneck.

Every fiber in her being screamed at her to zoom at the photo to get a better look. Sooyoung wanted to know. Hell, she’d been dying to know the truth for years now.

She remembered that time as if it happened yesterday, how she begged the authority to check if Kang Seulgi was on the list of the killed officers in that bloody raid. Sooyoung even went to the morgue and checked each of the dead bodies. If Seulgi was indeed dead, her body was definitely there.

She didn’t find Seulgi in that morgue. There’s no closure. And they announced Kang Seulgi as missing in action.

Years passed. Sooyoung joined the force and still hanging onto that sliver of hope that she could find Seulgi or, at least, getting a closure so she could stop living without Seulgi’s ghost haunting her dreams every night. As she zoomed the picture, Sooyoung realized that her search of Seulgi had finally come to an end.

Strange enough, she felt no relief. Instead, the chains were shackling her even tighter.

This would’ve been easier if Seulgi was truly dead.


	7. In My Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I will start working next week, there will be a slight delay on weekly updates.  
> Anyway, thank you for your support. Don't forget to drop kudos, comments, and bookmarks.

“Where were you this morning?”

Irene knew Seulgi would ask. Anyone would realize that something was off with her today. Irene returned to the house a little past nine, a spring on her step, and a smile that she couldn’t hide.

Admittedly, she felt stupid. Son Seungwan was an egghead, a nervous ball of awkwardness, and as unremarkable as anyone could be. Irene never associated with unremarkable people. And yet, Irene consciously asked Seungwan to go to that jazz lounge. Irene’s more pragmatic side reasoned Seungwan must have something interesting in her.

“Breakfast at a deli near the town square,” Irene replied. Chin on the palm, Irene was focusing her attention on the moving scenery outside. This day had been pleasant. No stressful encounter, no unwarranted violence. Everything was normal, and Irene was grateful. Days like these were rare when you live in a constant lookout that someone would slit your throat.

Seulgi glanced to the side, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as music played softly on the radio. “Really? That’s rare,” she commented to Irene’s unresponsiveness. “I thought you hate eating out because you can’t control the salt content?”

“The food wasn’t that bad,” Irene sufficed without turning to Seulgi. “And I need a change of scenery.”

Seulgi hummed. “Did you go with Jennie?”

A frown appeared on Irene’s forehead. “Why did you assume that I go with her?”

“Who else would it be? You have no—oh…” Irene didn’t want to imagine it, but she saw it on Seulgi’s face: the half-open mouth, the dilated pupils, and the slow realization on her face when she connected the dots. “You’re meeting with that doctor?”

Seulgi had always been the perceptive one between them, and Irene didn’t know how to feel about that fact. She stared at Seulgi like she told Irene that earth was flat; her mouth slacked open as Seulgi grinned at her.

Irene opted to turn her face away from Seulgi, tonguing the inside of her cheek to curb the weird vibes that’d been bothering her since she spoke to Seungwan this morning. Seulgi started to laugh after seconds of awkward silence.

“First of all, I’m not going to blame you. She looks like a sweet person.”

“You don’t talk to her that much.”

“Is that a jealousy I hear?”

Irene raised an eyebrow. Annoyed. “No. You’re assuming things, and I don’t like it.”

“Congratulations on making a new friend outside of our circle?”

“I don’t need a congratulation either,” Irene almost whined. Her embarrassment was creeping at the back of her neck like tiny licks of flame. “She just happened to be there and you know how bad I treated her back then. So, I asked her to sit with me and we talked.”

“Oh, finally admitting that you were an asshole to her, eh?”

“You don’t have to rub it on me, I know it already.” Irene alternated between falling into the mess that’s her embarrassment and pissed off at how Seulgi easily exposed her. She huffed loudly. Her face was hot. Beside her, Seulgi was openly giggling. “I was trying to be polite, you know. She’s awkward, and even admitting that she’s scared of me.”

“She should be,” Seulgi agreed without a pause. “You’re a freak show that night. Anyone would’ve been scared.” The car turned in an intersection, entering the western block that Irene had memorized by heart. “Does she know?”

“What?”

“About you. What do you do? Who you are?”

Irene shrugged. It’s one thing to figure out what she’s feeling for Seungwan, but opening up to Seungwan was another matter. Honestly, she’s not trying to cover up anything. What she’d told Seungwan wasn’t exactly a lie either. She’s an entrepreneur, a businessman, though her method was less ethical and involved a lot of coercion and violence.

“No, fortunately,” Irene answered. She reclined the chair down to get comfortable. “It’s better this way. I don’t need having a privy civilian around me.”

Seulgi nodded, smiling knowingly, and Irene didn’t like what it implied. “What did you guys talk about?”

“You understand that we have other _important_ things to talk about, right?”

“Like what? Underworld drama of The Red District season nine?” Seulgi sighed with disgust clear in her voice. “Irene, you’re allowed to talk about something else. You don’t have to devote all your time and energy on things that would only tire you.”

“Things that tire me is _literally_ my job, Seul,” Irene deadpanned. “And we’re just three blocks away from The Pub.”

Seulgi shrugged. “True, but you’re allowed, you know. To be normal like everyone else,” she said. Almost bitterly too.

The problem was there’s a grain of truth in what Seulgi said. Irene was allowed to be normal. Most of the members of The Binders had a normal, functioning family, and nothing prevented Irene to have what the others had. The thing was: Irene couldn’t see herself to become normal.

Any display of normalcy made her insides churn. When she found herself walking down in that suburban housing complex, staring at all the houses that lined up like cloned monoliths at night, every lawn cut to the same eerie neatness, the white picket fences that fashioned in a way that screamed obedience and routine, and the mental image of how happy those people were inside their safety nest, Irene couldn’t keep the hatred away.

And Seungwan… belonged to that kind of place. Seungwan was neat and obedient; Seungwan lived by the rules and she had everything figured out. Irene couldn’t talk about Seungwan without mentioning how normal that woman was, and that annoyed her more than anything.

“We talked about things,” Irene began. The pragmatic side of her brain told her to stop. “Things like her job, what she likes.”

“Normal things?”

Irene clamped, holding the shudder inside. “Yeah. Normal things.” She inhaled deeply; her head dropped a bit. Again, she told herself to stop shivering. The car jolted. Must be another pothole, but Irene wasn’t as bothered as she’s supposed to be. This conversation was enough to distract her.

“What does she like?”

And Seulgi was still asking her. It took everything in Irene to not snap at Seulgi. She could’ve ignored it, and yet. “She likes wine and jazz. I told her there’s a jazz lounge she can visit.”

“And? Does she agree to go?”

“Yeah,” Irene nodded. She deliberately left the information that she’s going to visit that very place tonight, and the possibility that Seungwan would be there to join her. “When she’s not too busy.”

“I see,” Seulgi commented. Then, she glanced at Irene briefly, a kind smile pulling on her mouth. “You’re not emotionally stunted to make a conversation.”

“We spoke because of circumstances. If she didn’t greet me first, I wouldn’t even know she’s there.”

“Don’t be so obtuse, Irene. You’re just shy and we both know it.” Seulgi let out another laugh at Irene’s sharp glare and quickly dropped the teasing out of mercy. “Anyway, all things considered, I’m glad you’re starting to open up. Thirty years late, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Can we just drop this?” Irene quipped with a roll of her eyes and Seulgi was laughing again. “Seriously, is my life drama that exciting for you?”

“It is,” Seulgi admitted without a second thought.

“Well don’t think too much about it because nothing will happen.”

Irene quickly cut Seulgi off. She sounded more like she’s trying to convince herself. The Pub was visible from the distance. It wasn’t open for the public but Irene owned the place; she could come here anytime she wanted, and Irene could feel it in her toes: the dread and the sharp stench of something rotten from the inside. Irene embraced it fully, that familiar feeling. It fit her better than the giddy, _confusing_ thing she felt for that damn doctor.

She gathered her head from the clouds. The respite had ended. Real world’s waiting.

And, in her world, there’s no place for someone as normal as Son Seungwan.

-/-/-/-/

The lower floor of The Pub was empty when Irene and Seulgi entered. Pub brawls were common. Irene could see scars on the floor and a heap of broken chairs in the corner. The windows were open to clear the air from all the smells of smoke and alcohol. The barman was moving chairs and tables back while the other cleaner dutifully broomed the floor, regardless it would get dirty again once the shop open.

“Ms. Bae, Ms. Kang,” the barman greeted once he saw Irene and Seulgi approaching. “Do you want anything?”

“Not now. Keep up the good work will ya?” Seulgi told him with a wink. He looked old enough to be her uncle, and yet he’s still blushing like a high schoolboy. Irene sighed as she climbed up the stairs with Seulgi trailing behind.

“Keep doing that and he’s gonna get the wrong idea,” Irene reprimanded. Her hands shoved into her pockets. The heater wasn’t fully functional as winter wind breezed inside.

“Meh. He won’t do anything.”

Irene shook her head but didn’t bother to prolong the conversation. She approached the double doors at the end of the hallway and pushed them open. The room, however, wasn’t as empty as the floor below.

The Pub used to have lodgings for visitors that were too drunk to crawl back home. The rooms were 6x6 sized, separated by a wooden partition, and provided minimum privacy compared to any cheap motels in this city. When the third leader took control, he demolished the lodgings to cut unnecessary costs and formed a single open-plan space with the window boarded, turning the place into a fully functioning betting shop.

The largest room was dominated by a huge writing board, which bets were being marked by two workers. A marker in their hands, they stood on a stepladder to write numbers on the top of the board. The room was buzzing with activity; cigarette and cigar smoke swirled in the air and everyone was talking at the same time. They understood each other without even looking at who they’re speaking to. Irene paused near the board and peered up. The bet was on for the horse racing next week. Twenty bets were all up for Redmare. Irene’s face was unreadable as she weighed the odds.

“Irene Bae!” it was loud in this room but Irene could recognize that voice anywhere. There’s an arm on her shoulder. Before she could voice her discontent, the familiar face of Kim Taeyeon came to view. “Hello, hello! It’s unusual to see you here this early.”

Irene usually shrugged Taeyeon off when the woman was being overly friendly. This time, she didn’t budge at the extra weight on her shoulder. “I don’t want them to call me a freeloader.”

“Aww, you’re cute. Nobody’s calling you that. You’re our _supreme_ leader Bae Irene. Everyone respects you!”

“Anyway,” Irene shrugged Taeyeon off and almost pushed the woman away. She looked at the board again before turning to Taeyeon. “Twenty bets on Redmare,” she said, almost yelling so Taeyeon could hear her. “I see you’re getting bold to push this new breed eh?”

Taeyeon was smiling. Instead of answering Irene’s question, she turned to the door in the corner that led to a small office. Irene held her groan but decided to follow Taeyeon. Seulgi was somewhere near the desk, taking interest in the staff working the bets on their PCs. Irene decided to go to that room alone.

The office was smaller and plain. It had posters of old advertisement dated from the 80s and porno pinups that nobody bothered to take off. Taeyeon’s working desk was surprisingly clean. Documents neatly stacked, stationeries held up in a tin container, and there’s that table lamp that Irene often saw in an antique shop. There’s a safe box near the desk where Taeyeon was sitting. It’s half-opened but the money was barely filling the space.

“Drink, Rene?” Taeyeon offered. A bottle of rum in her hand. Irene shook her head. Taeyeon deliberately took her time pouring the drink for herself before looking up. “So, what you’re here for?”

Irene didn’t sit. She’s leaning against the door instead. Her eyes roamed around the room, noticing wet spots and the peeling paints. Despite their best effort to keep The Pub up and running, it’s hard to cover up the signs of age and rot that plagued its walls and ceiling. Irene breathed deeply, feeling sad for some reason.

“How are you doing?” she began.

Taeyeon’s brows disappeared to her hairline at the question. “We just met a few days ago.”

“I mean the business,” Irene quickly cut Taeyeon.

“Ah. Well. The business,” Taeyeon ran her finger over the rim of the glass as she briefly glanced at Irene. “Stuck between joyful and peachy. Nothing to report, boss.”

Irene’s expression hardened at the careless remark. “What is it about this new breed that makes people want to bet on him?”

Taeyeon shrugged and gulped her drink. “Times are hard. Folks need something to keep them excited. Some kind of new hope to latch onto.”

Irene didn’t say a thing, but her gaze was sharp as she looked at Taeyeon. On the other hand, Taeyeon didn’t even flinch under Irene’s scrutiny.

“What did you tell them?” Irene almost hissed.

“I tell them there’ll be a lot of money to win.”

“And they believe you?”

“Irene, you’re not going anywhere with that attitude,” she said almost haughtily. “With a little persuasion, lucky numbers, guaranteed coupons, and some fortune-telling, we sold them tickets like peanuts.”

Irene almost groaned at the answer. “They ain’t stupid, Taeyeon. Internet is there for a reason!”

“It doesn’t matter which generations. People still believe in superstition. Look at the numbers,” Taeyeon jutted her chin, seemingly unbothered by anything. “They want Redmare to win. You should be grinning by now.”

Irene simply glanced at the safe on the floor. “What if Redmare loses?”

Taeyeon shrugged again. “He won’t. I make sure of it.”

The answer clicked, and Irene stared hard at Taeyeon to suggest she didn’t like where this was going. She ambled to Taeyeon; her small hands slammed on the desk. “You’re fixing races now, Taeng?” Poor sunlight cast a shadow on Taeyeon’s face. Irene repeated. “Did you get permission from the Yakuza to fix races now?”

“We didn’t,” Taeyeon simply replied. “I’m taking charge of drumming up new money. I know this lot better than anyone. It’ll be fine.”

“Last time we did fixed races, those Japanese coming here to get your head. Didn’t you learn anything from that?”

Taeyeon scoffed. She angled her head, eyes hidden in the shade. The smirk was hard and challenging as if to remind Irene that she got everything under control.

“You’re not the only one who works hard.” Taeyeon’s voice was teetering close to a warning. She stared right into Irene’s, neither of them backed down, as she tapped the side of her head. “We’re short on resources, Irene. Desperate times require desperate measures. You’re free to put me on your watchlist, but I never hesitate to give my all for this family.”

“And you think you can take it if your plan fails?” Irene interrupted firmly. The smirk on Taeyeon’s lips had disappeared completely. “The Yakuza isn’t playing around. They don’t care spilling blood in Korean soil if it means to get rid of the competition.”

Taeyeon looked away and snorted, finding Irene’s statement worthy of a laugh. “Worry about yourself, dear. Last time I checked, I’m not the one who’s initiating a war with White Lotus because I sell cracks on their territory.”

Irene pulled back from the desk but didn’t look away from Taeyeon. “It’s just a price to get us out from this junk.” Her voice dropped an octave, cold, and scathing. “I will lead, Taeyeon. That’s what I do.”

Giving one last look, Irene turned and slammed the door as she left the office.

-/-/-/

Seungwan was bleeped by ward-after-ward, emergency after emergency. All-day long, it never stopped. There’s an accident today and Seungwan spent the rest of her working day treating patients with broken bones, getting drenched in bodily fluids, reviewing their conditions before sending them to the specialists, and Seungwan was too busy saving lives she had no time to think about anything else.

The madness ended at 6 pm. Seungwan crumpled on one of the sofas in the doctors’ mess. It took a while to come down from the adrenaline and Seungwan felt her body was ready to melt into a puddle of goo. She pulled out her phone, ignoring the pending texts and voicemails, and went straight to the contact list. Irene’s number was staring back at her and Seungwan hesitated if it was a good idea to call Irene.

Her brain was polluted in possibilities. What if Irene didn’t want to answer? What if Irene was only joking when she asked Seungwan to go with her? What if Irene gave a wrong phone number just to prank her?

Seungwan’s hands were suddenly clammy. A weird feeling was flickering inside her chest, a strange sensation that Seungwan wasn’t able to explain in words. The feeling was like every time Irene gave Seungwan her unwavering attention.

Seungwan took her time staring at Irene’s number. Her fingers hovered above the screen, bewildered. God, Seungwan was nervous. Her suspicion was getting ridiculous, but Irene looked serious and didn’t seem like the type to prank people for amusement.

She decided to lay everything on the table.

_Hi._

Seungwan blinked, uncurled from her position, panicking, because she’s just sending Irene a message, and she suddenly forgot that the delete function existed. She almost threw her phone to the lockers when a reply bubble appeared on the screen.

Irene answered her. _Oh god,_ Irene answered.

 _Good afternoon,_ said the bubble. _Done for the day?_

Seungwan’s thought was a mess. Holding her phone in both hands, Seungwan let instinct kicked in and typed her reply. _I took a quick rest. Today’s been crazy._ She pressed send. Biting her lip, Seungwan typed again. _We’re going tonight?_

 _The jazz lounge date? Of course._ Her phone buzzed again. _You want me to pick you up?_

It’s not a date.

It’d been a while since the last time she had a date—although it didn’t make her feel better because she had no idea what’s going to happen. The paper that Irene gave to her was still inside her wallet, tucked neatly in a separate place from the shopping receipts she had no time to throw away.

_No. I can go there myself. You must be busy; I don’t want to trouble you._

The reply came a bit longer and Seungwan was panicking again for a different reason. She was about to apologize when a message bubble popped on the screen.

_You’re funny. I’ll be waiting then. See you tonight, Seungwan._

And it ended as quickly as it began. The doctors’ mess was still empty. Seungwan was dumbfounded. She was trained how to examine a patient’s cardiovascular system, physiology of coronary vasculature, recognize every sign and symptom of heart attack, and if she wanted to be pragmatic, she’s this close to having a cardiac arrest with how hard her heart was beating.

No one taught her about this, you know.

-/-/-/-/

The jazz lounge was warm when she stepped inside.

The interior looked like something that Instagram influencers would post on their page too. The lightings were soft, the interior was remarkable with minimalistic décor, sleek tables, musicians on the stage, and people chattering in low rumble as jazz tuned into the atmosphere.

She hung her coat and took her surroundings, sort of wide-eyed, and delighted. The place was charming. It had a different vibe from the clubs and parlors in the central block. Everything moved slowly, everyone was enjoying their time, and it’s a nice change from the chaos that’s the emergency room.

She picked the table near the center. Irene messaged her that there’s a traffic jam and asked Seungwan to wait for her. She didn’t mind waiting and replied to Irene’s message. 

Seungwan’s eyes focused on the singer. Her voice was deep, smooth, and husky all in the right places. The spotlight cast a velvety glow along her skin, her sequin dress reflected the light that made her look like stars scattered in the middle of a galaxy. White gold circling her neck; tiny diamond glinted together with how the lady singer slightly swayed her body along with the rhythm. Her hair was tied in a high bun, bangs swept neatly to the side with a white flower tucked on her right ear. Mouth painted in red as it sang along the notes, serenading everyone with the sweet melody of her voice.

“Seungwan.”

Irene’s hand was on her shoulder and Seungwan was petrified. Her dark hair was swept to the side, lips half-opened, and seemingly out of breath. Seungwan couldn’t stop herself from thinking of how pretty Irene was. It took effort from her to look away from Irene’s mouth and focus on her face.

“Hey,” Seungwan mumbled. Her eyes followed Irene as the woman took a seat across from her. “How are you today?” she blurted like a fool she was.

Irene looked up and smiled. Small and charming. “I’ve been well. Thank you.” A waiter approached them and put the menu on the table. “Oh, they serve wine here too. You want one?”

Seungwan wasn’t sure if she wanted to get drunk tonight, but she probably needed a little alcohol boost to keep her nerves from going awry. “Sure. If you like.”

Irene talked to the waiter while Seungwan waited. Irene had a smooth voice, pitched in a perfect syllable, and there’s this distinct accent when she spoke a certain word. They hadn’t talked much; there’s plenty of Irene that Seungwan didn’t know, and it piqued on her curiosity.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Irene said once the waiter left. She chuckled and her voice was husky, dark, and tired as if she had just talked for hours.

“No. The pleasure is mine. I’m glad we can,” Seungwan stopped to think of the correct word to describe this situation, “get to know each other more.”

Irene was smiling again but her eyes were looking sullen. Seungwan noticed Irene’s face was bare, letting her gaze swept on the dark circles under Irene’s eyes. Only in her turtleneck and skinny jeans, Irene was looking small and vulnerable. It reminded Seungwan of that night when Irene was lying unconscious on her table, wounded and battered with scars.

“I probably not good at this,” Irene muttered and looked at the stage.

“Good at what exactly?”

“Talking.” Irene’s eyes found Seungwan’s, intense and haunting. “Like how normal people talk.”

Seungwan looked away first. It’s different from facing her patients. Irene’s stare was boring into her in a way that Seungwan couldn’t describe. It captured her and made her spine tingle.

“But you asked me first,” said Seungwan. Her fingers were picking on the tabletop, teeth biting the inside of cheeks as she steeled herself to look back at Irene.

“I did,” Irene replied honestly. “I don’t usually look for a company though.”

“Not your thing?”

“Maybe,” Irene nodded. She leaned on the chair; her breathing came a little heavy.

“And what of Seulgi?”

“I don’t seek company from someone I work with.”

Seungwan frowned. “That’s why you’re looking in me?”

“Because you stay,” Irene blurted and Seungwan could only look. “You stay, and I think…” Irene licked her lips, seemingly lost in her thought. “I think we can just be alone together.”

Seungwan could see cracks on Irene’s mask. A vulnerability that washed away by too many through the days. They fell into silence. Solemn and lonely.

They’re surrounded by people, the band was playing an upbeat tune, but all Seungwan could feel was the weariness that burdened Irene. She couldn’t tell what Irene was feeling, whether she’s comfortable or not. Her expression was unreadable as she watched the performance, mouth moving slightly to sing at the lyric.

“I have nothing interesting to say to you too,” Seungwan spoke abruptly.

“Not even about yourself?”

Seungwan laughed. “Well, I become a doctor because I want to help people. Thinking that I can make a difference, no matter how small it is. Cliché, I know, but that’s what I was thinking when I decided to study medicine.”

“You like people?” Irene inquired, sounding genuinely curious.

Seungwan shrugged. “Not really. I just want to help them to get another chance at life. I thought I was ready. I’ve memorized theories, understood the procedure, what should and shouldn’t do, but life isn’t a theory and people aren’t textbooks,” her words caught in her throat as the memories of dying patients and crying families resurfaced. “The hospital feels like a giant ship; it’s on fire and no one has taught you the correct way to sail. It’s different each time. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

The waiter came to bring their order. Seungwan was watching Irene from the rim of the glass. “I think I get it,” Irene said after a while, voice low. “It feels like that for me too.”

“Like a ship on fire?”

Irene shook her head. “Like cages. Unable to get out, and there are people out there with spears on their hands, waiting to stab you.”

Seungwan tilted her head. “Is the business world that scary?”

“Very scary,” Irene smiled ruefully, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Survival of the fittest, like good Mr. Darwin said.”

Seungwan couldn’t help but smile too. Their conversation wasn’t easy, but it’s not as somber as it began. Irene was looking considerably relaxed as she quietly sipped on her wine. Seungwan wondered what kind of person Irene was when she had no armor on. Curious about the persona that’s hidden beneath the iron mask.

“You said your family is far away?”

Seungwan blinked at the sudden change of topic, but she answered it. “Yes. They’re in Canada.”

“What’s your family like?”

“They’re normal,” Seungwan noticed Irene was stiffening for a brief second, but she had no chance to ask because it went out so fast. “My father is a lawyer, mom’s teaching in a primary school. My older sister is a pharmacist and currently lives in Massachusetts.”

Her family was warm and supportive, but they didn’t like Seungwan’s decision when she took the offer to work in Red District’s hospital. It’s one of the reasons why Seungwan rarely disclosed her problems to them too. If they knew half of what Seungwan had been through while working, they wouldn’t stop pestering her to move out and return to Canada.

Because, in the end, Seungwan was still holding on to her sense of duty. She’s good at what she’s doing and didn’t have any intention to stop halfway.

“What about you?” Seungwan asked.

“Mom’s dead. I have no idea who my dad is.”

Irene replied almost too casually that Seungwan almost felt the backlash. The implication wasn’t lost on Seungwan as guilt began gnawing on her nerves. “I’m sorry,” she blurted, flinching at her voice.

Irene scoffed, seemingly unamused by Seungwan’s apology. “Don’t be. I’m used to be alone.”

“So, you seriously don’t have any friends?”

“No one is your friend.”

Seungwan faltered. “You… don’t trust me too?”

She sipped on her wine again, quietly mulling on something, before looking at Seungwan. “I want to trust you, Seungwan,” Irene pointed out. Seungwan didn’t understand what it meant when Irene told her that back in the car, but tonight she might understand this woman a bit better. “I feel like I can be a little easy on myself when you’re around.”

Seungwan balled her fists. Her stomach was doing that weird flutter again. “You sure know how to swoon me.”

“Maybe so.” Irene tilted her head, chin perched on the palm, and her eyes were looking bright as she observed Seungwan, sweeping over her eyes, nose, and lips. Those browns were sharp and disarming as they delved deeper into her just for the sake of sating a curiosity and nothing more. “But I think it’s because you give me a reason to feel like this.”

Seungwan couldn’t hide her surprise. There were thousands of different feelings roaming in her head. No clear lines, just a tangled mess. Everything jumbled into one. Irene easily stripped Seungwan’s defenses, occupied Seungwan’s mind, made Seungwan forgot about the time, and just wanted to be in her presence.

“Are you hungry?” Seungwan asked.

“A little bit. Why?”

She’s not supposed to say it. Irene was a complicated presence. Seungwan had always been careful around strangers, but she couldn’t do that with Irene.

“My place isn’t far from here,” Seungwan fidgeted. “If you don’t mind, we can have dinner?”

Irene was genuinely surprised at the offer, and Seungwan couldn’t keep the blush away. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she didn’t want this time she had with Irene to end. Not yet.

“If you’re okay with it.”

Her blush deepened. “I’m asking, aren’t I?”

Irene bit her lip, nodding slowly. Her smile was easy as she stood up and tilted her head. “Shall we off then?”

This time, Seungwan didn’t hesitate.

-/-/-/

Seulgi couldn’t hold her smile when she dropped Irene in that jazz lounge. Irene was always on the edge, like a rubber band that’s about to snap in two. Seeing Irene looked so normal and nervous during the ride was something that she’s going to treasure for a long time. It might be thirty years late, but there’s no stopping Irene to taste that bit of normalcy.

Her phone rang just as she stepped out of the car. Without looking at the name, Seulgi swiped the screen to answer. “Yes?”

“Hello, my sweet little crack dealer!”, came the booming voice from the other side of the line. Seulgi sighed and leaned against the car. “How are ya doing?”

“Nate,” Seulgi greeted back, trying to sound normal. She began to regret her decision to give her number to him. “What do you need?”

“Just want to check on you. Remember that we have a shipment coming up this weekend. I’ve contacted my agents at the port. Once the goods out, it’s all up to you, friend. No returns, exchanges, or death threats!”

“You don’t have to remind me. Anything else you want to say?”

“Getting a call from someone lately?”

“What?” Seulgi blurted, voice teetering between surprise and disbelief.

“Ah shit, that’s not what I meant. I met someone the other day, you know. A potential customer, and I kinda mentioned your name to her,” Nate explained almost like he’s afraid Seulgi would blast his head through the phone.

“No. I didn’t receive any calls.”

Nate let out a click of disappointment. “Aww, and I offered her a sample too, thinkin’ she might be serious buying our products.”

Seulgi pursed her lips as she watched a couple of shabby-looking men coming from the opposite direction. The Binders might have cops under their payroll, but that didn’t mean the payment was enough to stop undercovers from spying their activities. She waited until those people disappeared into an alley before speaking up.

“You’re not supposed to give anyone freebies!” Seulgi almost hissed and rubbed her temple in irritation. Her mood was fine before this call. “What if that woman is a cop? You could ruin everything!”

“Eh, she ain’t look like a cop to me. Too pretty to become one. Maybe she’s a celeb or something.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“Sanctum.”

Seulgi’s eyes narrowed. It’s not unusual for celebrities to visit the clubs, but Sanctum was a strip club, not even the best one. Only c-list celebs would visit that place willingly. “What’s her name?”

“Oh, you’re interested too?” His cackle was heavy and dirty it made Seulgi want to stuff her ears with cotton and block him entirely. “Her name’s Joy.”

Joy. Seulgi never heard that name. Maybe that woman was not a c-lister. A rookie maybe? Seulgi pushed the thoughts away. She’s going to investigate it later. “This is the last warning, Nate. Don’t give anything. If you want to sell, send them to me. I don’t want to take risks you selling to the wrong people.”

“You’re not my boss.”

“No, but I’m allowed to put you into place if you don’t lose that attitude. This isn’t a game, Nate. We’re taking this deal seriously, and there’ll be consequences if you can’t fulfill your side of the bargain.”

“Whoa okay, girlfriend. No need to get all trigger happy. This isn’t America.”

“Are you done?” she inquired. Her patience was simmering thin. If she had to spend one more second speaking to this man, Seulgi would cancel all her plans, go to a bar, and start a fight.

“Sure sure. We’re done here, boss. Oh, by the way, I’ll go back to the States next week. You can’t see me again for a few months, but I’ll keep in contact with you. Tell Irene that she’s welcomed to extend the deal beyond the Korean border.”

“I’m sure to tell her that.”

“Okay, gotta go.” The obvious grin in his voice made her boil. “Buh-bye!”

Seulgi snarled as she shoved her phone deep into the pocket. That man knew how to push her buttons. She took a deep breath, eyes screwed shut to calm herself, then she remembered about what Nate told her: Joy.

If Nate was right, Joy was probably a rookie who wasn’t cut to be in the industry. It’d always been like that. Teenage girls wanted to debut as idols or actress, failed to get the breakthrough, and decided to take shortcuts to keep the green rolling. White Lotus saw this opportunity. They exploited the girls’ vulnerability, making them addicted to heroin so that they could force them into prostitution and porno industries to support their addiction.

Ever since the beginning, The Binders was unsupportive of the prostitution and pornography rings. The leaders, including Irene, believed that there were much better opportunities for the gang to work on. The difference in vision and rivalries that stretched through generation had put The Binders and White Lotus at odds for decades.

Seulgi had no time to feel pity for Joy, knowing how deep she’d been involved in everything. There’s no sense of justice left in her. She’d lost it when they left her bleeding and dying in that warehouse.

Justice was for the idiot, and Seulgi wasn’t the same wide-eyed idealist she used to be.

Shaking her head, Seulgi made her way to the antique shop. She had to make sure Byul wouldn’t make the same mistake for the next shipment. She had to focus on the job. There’s no room for error here.

Her life was here, in the darkness, with filth and blood soiling her hands.


	8. Oh, You Crazy Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I hope Red Velvet will have a comeback soon and we can celebrate their music together.

The sign on the window was a huge, glaring neon light that reads “Hot Dog World. Home of the tastiest dogs”. A statue of a withered, yellow bear mascot that had seen better days had been erected by the entrance, giving an off-putting grin that pushed away any potential customers. On the pavement, a man was trying to distribute pamphlet advertisements, stretching out his arm to anyone who came his way. People were actively walking out of their way to avoid him.

“The hottest spot in Red District! We got everything you need! Take one! Free for first-timers! Take it!” he yelled at people even though no one paid him attention.

It’s not unusual to see a fast-food restaurant perched in between clubs and love hotels. One of Red District’s finest quality as it had everything for everyone. From the most depraved S&M clubs with dungeons to a plain, unassuming family restaurant where families would come to enjoy some quality time. The District gave them choices and freedom; the poison was for the people to choose.

Inside the Hot Dog World, Sooyoung and Yerim were in a booth; both of them sat on the same side of the table. The space was cramped, their knees and elbows were bumping against each other. Yerim was going to eat the hotdog when Sooyoung called.

“This place had about thirty health violations during the last inspection,” she said without looking at Yerim.

Yerim made a face and threw the dogs away. “Why are you taking me to a place where I can’t even eat?” she grumbled as she wiped the grease off her hands with a napkin.

“Because we don’t come here to eat,” Sooyoung explained with an edge in her voice. Her eyes anxiously darted to the entrance. “Give me your money.”

Yerim’s expression was sour as she handed Sooyoung a couple of bills.

“If you keep extorting me, I think I should know what the fuck you’re doing.”

Sooyoung folded the money with her own and slipped it inside an envelope. She held the envelope in her lap under the table, away from prying eyes. The doorbell jingled. Then, a man in a padded jacket and trucker cap entered the place. He didn’t look around and went straight to the booth where Sooyoung was at.

“Hey Park.” Cap on the table, Sooyoung noticed his white, thinning hair, and crow’s feet on the side of his eyes. He interlaced his fingers as he briefly observed Sooyoung and Yerim. “I thought you’re coming by yourself.”

“Change of plans,” Sooyoung commented curtly. “Any shipment this week?”

“We always do shipment, Park. Not even blizzard will stop us from doing the delivery.” He shrugged, nonplussed at the question. “Nobody wants to go to this place. Too much money in every corner.”

“And what about the hospital?”

Pale, brown eyes narrowed at Sooyoung as he took a deep breath. “The hospital?”

“I don’t want to repeat myself.”

“Look, Park.” His eyes flashed to both women. Sooyoung watched him closely, observing every fidget and squirm. “I’m just an accountant. I know nothing about whatever you want to know,” he spoke, almost like he’d answered the same thing so many times.

“This is exactly why I’m calling you here, Mr. Shin,” Sooyoung replied without a beat. “For starters, your company isn’t really big and has a limited area coverage. Yet, you have poured a big amount into security and insurance. And instead of paying to the insurance company, you transfer a considerable sum of money to particular names every month.”

He stiffened at the accusation but tried to maintain a cool façade.

“Of course, the money gets moved around, washed up on all fronts, but the trail is there. Deposits, withdrawals, the same sum, the same recipients.” Beside her, Yerim was looking at her with her jaw half-open. “You said you’re the accountant. Calculating money is your specialty, right?”

He stared at Sooyoung with an unreadable expression, pulling his mouth to a straight line before sighing in defeat. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re resourceful, I should’ve known.” Sooyoung waited as he took another mouthful breath. He looked around before leaning to the table; his expression turned serious. “There’s a shipment on Friday. Estimated arrival around 11 pm. I don’t know what’s inside, but we paid a lot of money to get the container to pass inspection.”

“What’s the car’s number? Where are you going to send them?”

He grew increasingly uncomfortable with the questions. “Fuck if I know! I only heard they’re going to ship it to a yard somewhere in the outskirt.”

The burdens on Sooyoung’s shoulders were chipping albeit slightly. The information this man just said was like a ticket for her to finally get somewhere. She could feel her blood thrumming in anticipation. The excitement of finally knowing where to go was enough to make her grin. Triumphantly.

“Can I go now?” the man inquired.

Sooyoung nodded. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she said, standing up from her chair and pushing the envelope into his breast pocket. Pursing his lips, he left the booth and picked the discarded hotdog, and took a bite off it along the way.

Yerim watched the man until he exited the restaurant before turning to Sooyoung. “That was money well-spent,” she deadpanned. “Hope the company covers his medical bills.”

Sooyoung straightened her jacket and moved out. “Let’s go,” she said tersely.

Once inside the car, Sooyoung tapped the GPS on the phone and looked to the address that the informant gave her. The place mostly functioned as a graveyard for out-of-commission train cars and scrap metals. And with how underdeveloped some parts of the district were, the place was practically abandoned. No one was bothered enough to check on it.

It’s a perfect place.

The night’s breeze went inside the compartment before it faded away. There was a rustle on the seat beside her. Sooyoung put her phone down and glanced to Yerim, who in turn was looking at her with a fixed expression. Sooyoung sighed. Yerim would berate her, she understood, but she didn’t want to entertain the idea of arguing with her either.

“How did you get all that?” Yerim asked first.

“I have my resources.”

“No shit, but that’s a lot.” Her eyes narrowed to crinkled slits at Sooyoung. “You’re doing this on your own,” Sooyoung said neither affirmation nor excuses. Her silence riled Yerim even more. “I thought we’re partners.”

“I’m making it easy for both of us,” Sooyoung interjected. Her brows knitted in a frown. “If they know we’re investigating this case, they’ll transfer us to another station before we can even say anything.”

“But this is not it!” Yerim shot back. “You never tell me anything. You can’t expect me to help you if anything goes wrong! I don’t even know what we’re doing!”

Sooyoung opened her mouth before closing it again. Yerim was right. Making excuses would only make Yerim distrust her even more. Sooyoung was too focused on the trail to find Seulgi, she didn’t care about anything else.

“Thing is, Yerim, we got a hit. The shipment that will arrive this Friday is connected to the drug trading in this city.” Sooyoung continued. Her posture was slightly slouched. “I crosschecked what the informant told me before. She provided coordination, names, and money transactions. There’s a lot of big players involved here. One of them is T&J Logistics, but I don’t have anyone there to spill the info.”

“And what about that man?”

“He’s from a smaller company. Emerald Express or something like that. The company was established around five years ago and despite limitations, they're doing pretty good. Even managed to gain profit on their second year. From what I got, Emerald Express also has the biggest share of shipment in this city alongside T&J. Pretty impressive considering their status.” The night was getting late and Sooyoung was exhausted. She wanted to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes all she could see was—

“The owner has a connection with ‘players’ from the underground, and he managed to secure deals with them to take care shipment of some goods.”

“So, the trucks that I saw on the hospital a few days ago?”

“It’s theirs,” Sooyoung nodded in affirmation. “The owner is a crafty man too. He has a small business that rents trucks and cars. If there’s a spare, sometimes he’d use those to distribute the goods to hospital and other places in the city.”

Yerim whistled in a mix of disbelief and awe. The seat squeaked under her weight. “And you did all this on your own?” she mused, running her hands on her face. “I wanna call you obsessed if I’m not too impressed with your intel work.”

Sooyoung’s body stiffened at the remark.

“We’ll go there tomorrow.”

“What about backup?”

Sooyoung tapped on the steering wheel. Her focus was already somewhere else. “Our mission is to see if there’s a transaction happening. They could just drop the container and leave it there,” she reasoned although deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case. That she’s just selfishly playing her own game. “Once we see any exchange, then we can call someone.”

Yerim sent Sooyoung a dubious look but said nothing. “Okay. I’ll get ready.”

“Thanks.”

The car pulled off the curb and disappeared into the chill of the night.

-/-/-/-/

The weather was pleasant. Snow enveloped the neighborhood as Irene stepped out of the taxi. Seungwan followed after and motioned Irene to come with her.

The apartment building was in a well-endowed area of the district and separated by a public park. As Irene followed Seungwan, she was inundated with the calming smell of winter night. Her boots tapped against the solid pavement, sloshing down the shiny wet path that seemed to glisten under the streetlights.

To be frank, Irene was only going because Seungwan had asked her. She didn’t think anything would happen beyond that. She looked up at the towering apartment building, had no idea which floor Seungwan’s room was, but she could imagine the view must be beautiful at night.

“My room is on the tenth floor,” Seungwan told her as they stepped into the lobby. There’s a staff waiting at the front desk. He greeted Seungwan with a nod and polite smile, which the woman returned just as the same. Then, she’s turning to Irene with a smile on her face. “You’re not scared of heights, are you?” she added with a dry laugh before groaning at her lame joke.

Irene chuckled. Seungwan was funny if it’s not a bit awkward. She didn’t hate it though. This doctor was charming.

The elevator ride was spent in silence. Irene was leaning against the railing and Seungwan stood near the panel. Seungwan’s shoulders were lined, frigid as if the cold hadn’t escaped her, but Irene knew it’s more than that. She felt it in her bones. Maybe Seungwan was feeling the same too.

She pressed the number on the keypad. It bleeped in affirmation and the door was unlocked.

“Come in.”

“Thank you.”

The feeling was strange as Irene stepped inside. She observed the living room, noticing the walls were painted in soft blue color, plush carpet covering the hardwood floor, a sofa big enough to contain two people facing, flat-screen television, and other entertainment sets. There was a large window leading to the terrace; Irene caught a glimpse of potted plants and flowers on the balcony. Then, she turned her gaze to the dining area, eyeing a humble table for two, a fridge, and a granite kitchen counter.

Lit by a fluorescent lamp, everything looked like they’re patiently waiting. It was a world of disorder outside, but this place was neatly organized. Each piece of furniture was put there for a purpose; nothing looked out of place. The apartment was beautiful and Irene was getting more nervous.

“Do you mind waiting for a bit? I’m going to change first,” Seungwan said, hanging her coat while pointing at the sofa.

Irene nodded as she watched Seungwan disappeared into her room. She only had a few occasions visiting someone’s house. Usually, she didn’t stay for too long. For some reasons, being in an unknown place, face to face with people she barely knew, Irene had always been cautious and alert even at the smallest thing.

She saw her reflection in the glass of the large terrace window. The tiny dots of light from the park below scattered like stars in the dark. Over there, that particular spot of Red District was looking bright. The lights and sparkles were blinding in contrast to the soft glow of the moon in the sky.

Seungwan’s place was like in another dimension. A quiet, gentle place. Suffocating as well as comforting, if that even made any sense. And as she continued staring into the darkness, she realized that she was tied by the sense of danger in this world. She shouldn’t be here; she should be doing other things.

Irene felt like she’d fallen to a timeslip. The feeling was dizzying.

She picked up pictures of Seungwan’s friends and family, skimmed through magazines on the coffee table, and read some old medical textbooks. There’s a huge shelf in the corner where Seungwan put the record player and her enormous collections of vinyl, ranging from jazz, blues, to Brit rock and modern pop songs.

“You want to listen to music?”

And it’s weirdly unsettling to see Seungwan in her element. She’d changed to casual clothes, her hair was spilling out of her ponytail, and Irene thought Seungwan was looking a lot better when she didn’t act like a drop of a pin was enough to make her run out of fear.

“I’m just looking,” Irene smiled at Seungwan. Then, she observed the kitchen briefly. “I can help you prepare the dinner.”

“You’re the guest here,” Seungwan reasoned. Her arm brushed lightly against Irene’s as she made her way to the kitchen. “What kind of host letting the guest cook?”

“I want to,” Irene quipped without thinking. Seungwan turned around to look at her weirdly, almost making Irene groan at how unsightly she’s behaving right now. “You worked all day. I feel bad if I let you do everything.”

Seungwan gave Irene a sweeping look before shrugging; the corners of her mouth quirked. She made a motion with a finger for Irene to follow her. And Irene did follow Seungwan, obediently, like Seungwan had put a spell on her.

“I’m going to make curry tonight,” Seungwan told her as she took out vegetables and potatoes from the fridge and put them on the counter. “Can you take care of these? It’s not too difficult for Ms. Boss Lady, right?”

Irene smirked as she picked a carrot and turned on the faucet. The water wasn’t as freezing as back home. “I thought you’re going to cook something fancy.”

“I want to, but it’s late and I’m tired to make something complicated.”

Seungwan was rinsing the rice and put it in a bowl. It was fascinating to see Seungwan so focused on her task, brows pulled in concentration, and the way her teeth chewed on the lower lip. Irene wondered if this was her default expression when she’s on duty.

Kicking herself mentally, Irene put all her attention to the potato in her hand, scrubbing the dirt under the running water. “You often cook?”

“Not really. I usually survive on coffee. Sometimes I buy something from the convenience store,” Seungwan explained, pouring water into the pot to start making the sauce. A wry laugh escaped her mouth. “Or skipping them altogether when days are hectic.”

Irene’s eyes widened. “How are you still functioning with that habit?”

“I’m just going with the flow, I guess.”

From the corner of her eyes, Irene noticed that Seungwan was looking a bit thinner compared to the first time she saw her that night. The sweatshirt she’s wearing was looking too big for her small stature.

Irene didn’t say anything. Instead, she picked a knife and started dicing the carrot and potato. She heard Seungwan mouthing a quiet ‘wow’ at the perfectly cut vegetables. It was easy to impress this woman, Irene thought.

“You’re quite handy with that,” Seungwan commented, leaning her hips on the granite counter without peeling her eyes from Irene.

“I have some expertise.”

“Oh? Did you take a cooking class?”

Irene only smiled. That would’ve been easier to explain, but Irene never attended any cooking classes in her life. Her expertise in knife was based on survival. “Something like that,” she answered vaguely.

“You’re cool, you know that?” Seungwan said suddenly.

The knife stilled briefly at the comment. “What?” Irene implored, turning to look at Seungwan.

“Yeah. I mean, you have your own business, you’re beautiful, you can cook, and you seem like you have everything figured out,” Seungwan added, suddenly turned bashful.

Irene scoffed at the statement. Her cheeks were warm; she blamed it on temperature. “Are you flirting with me?” she asked back as she handed the vegetables. Seungwan was visibly stiffening again, ears tipping red.

“Complimenting,” Seungwan corrected. “I don’t even know how to flirt.”

“You just did, actually,” Irene pointed with a grin. She’s enjoying the red flush on Seungwan’s face and how expressive that mouth was. “Do you always bring someone home on the first date?”

“Not really.”

“So, I’m the first?”

Seungwan’s hands were slightly trembling as she ripped the sauce packet and poured all its contents into the boiling water. She picked the vegetables and tossed them into the pot. “Yes,” she confessed through gritted teeth. It took her a moment to gain composure. “Well, the jazz lounge was nice though, but I need some quiet time for today.” She then turned to look at Irene’s face. “And I believe you need it too.”

“Me?”

“This city is overwhelming at times,” Seungwan nodded. Her eyes were soft, the sound of her laughter was even softer. “I think everyone deserves to have time for themselves, and look at this place. I have all the space but no time to enjoy it.” She focused her attention to stir the sauce on the pot. “Do you live alone?”

The mansion she’s currently living in was inherited from the previous leaders. Except for Seulgi, Irene rarely interacted with the bodyguards and the house helpers. It took an effort to make small talks. Not to mention that everyone was looking at Irene like she came with a sword and ready to cut their heads for even the smallest mistake. And the mansion was ridiculously big, had too many rooms, and you could get lost if you took a wrong turn in the hallway.

“Yes, but your place is better,” Irene commented, taking another sweeping note at the view before her. “It feels like home.”

“You can always come back here,” Seungwan said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Seungwan struck the right note, neither too demanding nor oppressively kind. It made Irene swell. Her chest was hot, and her head was spinning. She didn’t know what to say and just observed Seungwan. How she cooked the dinner— _their_ dinner and the implication only clamped Irene even more.

They decorated the dining table with plates and silverware. The food was fancier back at home; the cooks changed the menu daily and while Irene rarely complained, everything was starting to taste the same as time went by. The curry was simple and the sauce was mild. And yet, Irene wolfed everything down like she hadn’t eaten for days.

It’s only when Irene realized Seungwan watching her, the rice topped with brown sauce at the end of the spoon paused halfway to her mouth, that Irene slowed down. “Apologies,” Irene cleared her throat, felt herself blushing. “I’ve forgotten my manners. It’s been a long time since I eat something that doesn’t taste like wild herbs.”

“It’s okay,” said Seungwan, mouth quirked to that sweet, familiar smile. “I like the way you eat.”

Seungwan served her seconds when Irene’s plate was empty, and Irene ate them all again. Slower this time. Her gaze dropped to Seungwan’s plate. The dish was halfway finished and was pushed aside. She could feel Seungwan’s eyes on her, watching every move, taking notes on little things.

Irene wasn’t new to people looking at her, but this one was different. While most of the looks she often received were gritty, demeaning, or downright disgusted, Seungwan was looking at her like she’s the most special thing on this earth. It’s a bit too farfetched of her to think that way, but Irene didn’t stop Seungwan either. This place was too comfortable. It’s starting to dull her.

“Why did you move from Canada?” Irene asked later. Seungwan took out apples and pears from the fridge, peeling and cutting them with a tiny knife, and served Irene slices of them.

“Starting to feel curious of me huh?” Seungwan was openly poking fun at her and Irene only replied with a weak, noncommittal shrug. The rush of blood was warm and immediate under her skin. “What should I tell you? Maybe I want to start on my own, to make a name of myself. And I’ve already told you that I like helping people, so there’s that.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin, putting the knife down. “And I wanted to go home too.”

“Home?”

Seungwan nodded, looking wistful. “I was born here. Had a few friends too, but I left to study abroad with my sister. I missed it so much, that’s why I decided to move here once I got my degree. The paperwork was hell, but at least I got what I wanted.”

Irene knew nothing of the world outside of the mainland. The idea of a vast and boundless world baffled her and while there’s a thrill to go outside, Irene had accepted the fact that her life would forever be intertwined with Red Districts, The Binders, and everything that entailed. No matter how high she climbed, the ladder wasn’t tall enough to get her out of this pool of hungry sharks.

Irene’s expression darkened then. Her chest rumbled. “I wish I can see the world too.”

Seungwan was looking at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I was born and lived in this district. In an outskirt where people lived in trailers and packed in apartments like sardines,” Irene said. “My mom. She was a good woman, worked hard, tried to be a good parent for me, but she’s also a prostitute and addicted to heroin.” She couldn’t taste the sweetness on her tongue, only bitterness remained. “We were poor, moved from one flat to another. I rarely spoke to my mom because she worked at night and returned early in the morning. I washed her clothes. They all smelled like stale alcohol and cheap cologne.”

Irene didn’t dwell much on her past. She preferred to keep them locked up in the darkest crevice of her brain. Seungwan’s expression was unreadable, but there’s no disgust in those eyes. She was giving Irene all her attention, didn’t judge her from the information she just laid on the table.

Irene blinked rapidly to ease the hotness that crept behind her eyes.

“I don’t know what to say, Irene,” Seungwan muttered, slow and pained like she’d experienced that kind of life firsthand.

“Don’t feel too bad for her. She’s a hero,” Irene laughed, a bit choked up. “Her last words were ‘there, now we’re even’ when a robber came to our flat and lunged at her with a knife. She killed him with a whack of barbell to his head and beat him to death.” Irene shrugged although it took all of her to keep the sadness from leaking out.

Irene closed her eyes, counting numbers in her head, all the while very much aware of how open she was in front of Seungwan. She began to hate this place, the serenity, and safety that it brought, and how it made Irene feel weaker the longer she stayed.

“No one’s going to hurt you,” Seungwan told her after a while. Sincerity was written in her voice. “You’re safe here with me.”

Irene knew Seungwan had no business in making promises, not even passing. Seungwan had a chance to take it back, or at least trying to laugh it off and mitigate the consequences, but she did nothing of those.

And Irene didn’t have a reason why she raised her arm, hovering her hand in front of Seungwan’s mouth. She stared at Seungwan curiously or, maybe, hopefully. A thumb brushed against the bottom lip, caressing the plush flesh and Irene could feel hot breath over the top of her hand.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Seungwan.” There’s a husk in her voice. Seungwan was visibly shivering.

“Maybe,” Seungwan breathed, deeply. Eyes glossy. “But this is what I feel for you.” 

Irene regretted the words as she heard them. She blamed Seungwan’s voice, its softness, and instead of lashing out, Irene was slowly leaning into Seungwan, feeling drawn into those pretty brown eyes. They’re alone. Things were shifting, the feeling was different, and Irene was grasping at thousand different feelings that turned her drunk and sober at the same time.

Seungwan’s eyes were lidded, lashes fluttered in anticipation. Everything was spiraling out of control. Irene wasn’t happy when she’s not in control, and before it could escape her completely, she pulled away. Her fingers that touched Seungwan’s lips drew back like it had touched fire. The chairs screeched as Irene scrambled to stand up, stepping back to get away from Seungwan. Like touching Seungwan was more than enough to fry her brain inside out.

“I should go,” Irene stuttered. The confusion and hurt on Seungwan’s face were disheartening. Her brain was spinning for excuses but nothing sounded right. “You should be resting, and you’re working tomorrow too,” Irene blabbered. She was an incoherent mess right now. In the end, she gave Seungwan a tight smile and picked her jacket on the sofa. “Sorry for taking your time.”

Seungwan stood slowly. She was looking elsewhere like she’s trying to compose herself. When their gazes clashed, Irene was able to see pink dusting Seungwan’s cheeks. “It’s okay,” the woman added before breaking into another nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

That was neither question nor request. It was a statement. Like Seungwan was sure this moment wasn’t going to be their last and Irene could expect more to come. Another promise, one that hurt Irene’s heart more than she wanted to admit. The entire apartment fell quiet. Irene was having another conundrum, fingers curled in shaky fists.

“Yeah,” she heard herself saying. Feet nailed to the ground, Irene was unable to find it in her to leave this place—to leave Seungwan, but every rational bone in her body said she had to. That the longer she stayed, the deeper she plunged into the mess of… _whatever_ this was, would only do more harm than good. “Good night, Seungwan.”

She didn’t wait for any response and dashed to the door, stumbling out of the room and into the hallway. She called a taxi to quickly pick her up and proceeded to punch the call button. The elevator wasn’t fast enough to come, and Irene would’ve snarled if she wasn’t drowning in embarrassment.

The elevator dinged open and Irene wasted no time jumping inside. For the entire ride, she stared at the moving number on the panel, cursing Seungwan under her breath, how unbelievable what Seungwan made her feel and do. Irene greedily gulped a mouthful of breaths; her fingers smoothed over her hair in a flimsy attempt to calm herself.

Eyes cracking open, Irene stared onto the ceiling, watching the terrible reflection of herself, and another pathetic groan escaped her lips.

Son Seungwan wasn’t normal. She’s a terrible influence.

But there’s nothing she could do to stop the erratic beating of her heart, or how her mind was picturing Seungwan’s face the moment before they parted.

-/-/-/-/

A car came out of the long tunnel into an empty street far away from the noise of the city. Earth lay white and undisturbed under the pale moonlight. Headlights pierced the darkness in a steady pulse as the car cruised forward.

The yard was as rusty as anyone imagined it’d be. Originally used during the construction of the district, the place had since become a junkyard for broken trains, empty barrels, and storage containers. It’s filled with rubbles and other metallic trash. Throughout years of negligence, the trash accumulated, creating a maze of rusted metal that only fools would dare to navigate.

Entering the yard, the car parked near a heap of old tires. A woman stepped out from the vehicle, all bundled up in a black coat and knitted cap. Her face was buried to the nose in a muffler, and the flaps in her cap were turned down over her ears.

It was a cold night, thought Seulgi. Low, barrack-like buildings that might have some used in the past were lined on the other of the yard. There’s a light coming from a small window of a trailer near the entrance. The yard itself had no electricity, not even a bonfire to ease the cold. Surrounded with rot and abandonment, this place was only a small fragment of what lies behind the glamor of the city.

Seulgi checked on her phone. 10:40 pm. She came too early.

Sighing, she walked slowly over the snow into the trailer, her hands buried deep inside her pocket.

Just as she opened the door, a woman emerged from the small office in the back. She looked slightly younger than Seulgi, with a strong feature, sharp nose, and piercing eyes, and dressed in a dark green tweed coat. She’s holding a mug of steaming coffee in her hand; the golden earring in her left ear twinkled as she moved her head.

“Don’t you have another friend to visit, Kang?” the woman asked as she made her way to the desk. The radio was playing pop songs at a low volume.

Seulgi took a seat in a chair near the door. “I’m here to work.”

The woman eyed her curiously. “On Friday night?”

“Should I not to?”

“People usually date on Friday night, not stranded in a scrapyard of nowhere like you.”

Seulgi smiled. She leaned back to the seat, one leg on top of another, getting comfortable. “Maybe I want to keep you company, Jisoo.”

Jisoo scoffed and sipped on her coffee. “Irene’s not enough to keep you warm at night?”

Seulgi didn’t say a thing and smile instead. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her coat and offered it a Jisoo. “I don’t have that kind of relationship with Irene,” she said. A small flame flickered from the lighter as Seulgi lit up the cigarette on Jisoo’s mouth.

“Really?” Jisoo deadpanned. “But you guys look hot together.”

“I try to keep it professional,” Seulgi replied as she shoved the cigarette back into her pocket. “As much as I want to help her, I don’t have it in me to fulfill her other… _desires_.”

Jisoo coughed up a cloud of smoke as she laughed. “Well, aren’t you a gallant one? From what I heard, Irene had a thing with that doctor, right? What’s the name again? Jennifer?”

“Jennie,” Seulgi corrected. “But that’s none of your business. We all have our sins to bear.” They went quiet for a while with Seulgi observing the room and Jisoo was recording something on a ledger. There’s nothing much in this trailer: desk, chairs, a bookshelf, and a kerosene heater in the corner. Seulgi looked out over the snow-covered yard, eyes narrowing. “You’re leaving us just so you can be an overseer of this junkyard?”

“This place is more like a treasure cove,” Jisoo said without looking from her work. “Here, you can find almost anything you want, and don’t be surprised that there are people who are willing to pay a lot of money for these junks. Turning rust into gold, they said,” she flicked the ash carelessly to the floor and glanced at Seulgi from over her shoulder. “Come back here during the daytime. I’ll give you a tour.”

“You don’t want to go back?”

Jisoo went quiet at that. Seulgi only watched; her eyes dropped to Jisoo’s right leg. The edge of her pants was slightly hiked upward, showing a glimpse of prosthetics in place of a normal foot. It was around two years ago, during one of the most violent turf wars between White Lotus and The Binders. Both sides suffered heavy casualties, many died or were severely injured. Jisoo received a plank with rusted nails to the leg. The wound was festering and they had to amputate it to keep the infection from spreading.

“Look at me, Kang,” Jisoo said, turning around to fully face Seulgi. The tension was growing thicker when Jisoo rolled up the pant to show Seulgi the full view of her right leg. “I have this thing attached in me. Are you seriously thinking I’ll be able to keep up?”

Seulgi was contemplating her answer, but she had nothing to say. It wasn’t easy to speak about this. The crisis brought a lot of pain and suffering to everyone. Those who were loyal to the gang’s code sided with Irene, leaving the unsatisfied party to rebel and caused chaos to the organization. The aftermath wasn’t any better. Betrayals were common, trust between the members was difficult to flourish, and while they had established a middle ground, it’s more like a temporary truce before ruin claimed them again.

“Well, I still can help you, but never ask me to join the family again,” Jisoo ended their conversation. The cigarette dropped to the floor before she squished it under her boot. “In the meantime, this place is at your disposal. You’re free to do anything here, drug dealing, weapon smuggling, public execution, and all that fun stuff.”

Seulgi scoffed. She didn’t find any of those things as fun. Then again, fun was never a part of the equation in this job.

Outside, a truck was making its way into the yard, plowing the snow at a slow and steady pace. “Oh, they’re coming,” Jisoo commented as she peered through the window. “Come on get your ass up.”

The truck was waiting not far from where Seulgi parked her car. Two people were walking out of the truck and started unloading the crates. “Give us some light,” Seulgi told Jisoo as she approached one of the crates. Jisoo was pointing the flashlight while Seulgi was prying the crate open with a crowbar. The crate opened with a dull crack, revealing a dull metal, a barrel, and a roll of machine gun shells.

“How many more in there?” Seulgi jutted her chin to the truck where the rest of the crates were.

“Ten,” the driver answered.

Seulgi took out her phone and dialed a number. It took three beeps until Byul’s voice emerged in the speaker. “I got the goods,” Seulgi informed. “Ten crates.”

“Twenty pieces of machine guns with thousand rounds of ammunition. Fifty semi-automatic rifles, two hundred pistols with shells, also some sticky bombs and grenades,” Byul added. She sounded so pleased with herself. “Why don’t you get a rocket launcher too while you’re at it eh?”

Seulgi cocked her head to the side, ordering the men to bring the rest of the shipment to the warehouse not far from Jisoo’s trailer. “I haven’t checked all of them, but I give you a benefit of the doubt for not fucking this up,” she warned, voice dropped an octave, as she watched the men pushing the crates to the warehouse with a trolley.

“I understand that the situation hasn’t been favorable, but this is a bit of an overkill. And words fly fast on the street. People are tense. They know about the business venture, they know about the weapons, it’s only a matter of time until they come knocking on your door.”

Seulgi looked at Jisoo as she instructed the workers on where they should put the goods. Her expression remained placid but there’s a flicker that she smothered.

“We’re just looking for money like everyone else.”

“Tell that to Euntae. He doesn’t like competition.”

“And so does Irene. Moreover, she hates thieves.”

Byul paused. Seulgi gripped her phone tighter.

“Well, good luck on your business, Seul,” Byul said although the doubt in her voice was visible. “Send my regards to Irene.”

Seulgi nodded and ended the call, turning to the warehouse direction. The snow crunched under the sole of her shoes.

-/-/-/-/

It was a little past midnight when Seulgi exited the yard. The crates were already in place, ready to be distributed, and everything ended up smoother than she’d predicted. The drive back to the mansion had been quiet. Left hand holding the steering while the right perched by the window to hold her cheek, Seulgi was trying to stay awake. Outside was growing dark and the snow was still pouring. She played the radio at a high volume, but the songs could only help so much.

The gas station was the type that had a convenient store and opened for 24-hours, and Seulgi didn’t hesitate to have a bit of a detour. The cashier was looking dazed when Seulgi stepped in. The store itself was mostly empty, aside from a teenage boy looking excitedly through the varieties of potato chips, a girl who walked in from the bitter cold just for a bit of warmth, and someone with a hoodie looking through the chilled cans of booze.

Seulgi picked two pieces of donuts from the counter and went to the drinking aisle. Convenient store’s coffee never had the best taste; she even doubted if they even used real coffee beans, but they worked well enough to keep her eyes open.

“Good evening.”

The coffee and the bread clattered onto the counter, and the cashier reached to scan them. Seulgi looked around as she waited for him to finish counting the amount. Another car was already parked beside hers: a black sedan with tinted glass.

“Your total will be 600 won.”

Seulgi reached into her pocket, fumbling with her purse to look for the money she needed to pay the food—

Until something cold and solid was pressing against her back.

“Kang Seulgi,” a voice came up behind her. It was so sudden, Seulgi didn’t have time to react. She kept her gaze forward. The cashier guy didn’t seem to realize the situation, or maybe he did but decided to keep silent. “You’re coming with me.”

“You need a better approach if you want to ask me out.”

Her body went stiff at the soft click from the gun. This person didn’t play around.

“Don’t get smart with me or I will pop your head off right now.”

Seulgi pursed her lips. She’d always been careful; she’s always making sure that nobody was following her and yet she got jumped on in the middle of _fucking_ nowhere just because she stopped to buy donuts. Irene would kill her if she knew. Turning around, Seulgi tried to catch a glimpse of this bloke who dared to push a gun to her.

Their eyes clashed and Seulgi froze.

The person held onto Seulgi’s gaze boring into her.

At this moment, after a very long time, Seulgi felt her world tumbling into her.

“…Sooyoung.”


	9. Evil's Soft Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a lot of Joy and Seulgi in this chapter. Thank you for your support :)

She had learned of Seulgi’s death from a friend, an editor from the local paper. A man in his mid-twenties, rugged, and looking perpetually exhausted thanks to the dark circles under his eyes.

“It was a failure. They had never stood a chance,” he told her. “No matter how many people they send, those bastards are always one step further. That warehouse is a death trap. Once you go in, you’d never go out.” He put off his cigarette and ran his fingers over his close-cropped hair. The rim of his glasses was looking slightly bent. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you.”

Sooyoung could tell he wanted to avoid hurting her.

Her life got off to a blurry string of events after that. She did her best to play her role, buried herself in works knowing, though, that it’s just her selfish effort to keep the grief from eating her inside out. It’s strange to think about it now. How she was so obsessed with the idea of catching criminals not because it’s the right thing to do, but it’s more like an act of petty revenge for losing Seulgi.

It’s getting stranger to see the object of her grief sitting no more than two feet away, breathing the same air, and staring out of the window like a student on a field trip.

Seulgi’s eyes flickered up to her. Sooyoung almost called out in her astonishment, but she didn’t have it in her to voice what she’s thinking. In the end, she’s just looking. Those eyes were strangely beautiful and foreign, but they also feigned years of weariness and a thousand different things all at once.

Seulgi was leaning against the leather seat, comfortable but not careless. Sooyoung could see from the way Seulgi’s strength was gathered in her shoulders, that the calmness she’s showing was but a sign of alertness.

Looking at Seulgi was like looking at a photograph. Seulgi had been nothing but a ghost for so long and now she was here, in the flesh, with the same face, and yet there’s nothing familiar about this woman.

“Is it her?” Sooyoung ripped her eyes away from Seulgi the moment Yerim spoke. She blinked the haziness away and put her stoic mask back on. “The Seulgi you mentioned before?”

Sooyoung exhaled. “She could be.”

“Could be?” Yerim echoed with a raised brow. “You pulled a gun to a civilian in a backwater convenient store because you thought she’s the one we’re looking for?”

There’s a snort from the backseat. From the rearview mirror, Sooyoung saw Seulgi bite her lip to stop a smile that threatened to fall on her lips.

“You saw her in that junkyard,” Sooyoung explained through gritted teeth. It was then she realized that she’d been gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight. “There’s a transaction and she was there. We got the pictures. What else do you need?”

Yerim pursed her lips and stared at Seulgi.

“You’re Seulgi, right?” Yerim asked. Her eyes took Seulgi’s appearance despite the poor lighting. “You don’t look like a type to sell drugs for a living. A bit too fancy for that.”

“What? You think I should’ve dressed like some kind of hobo?” Seulgi replied. She was handcuffed and the metal clinked against one another when she moved. The passing streetlight cast a yellowish hue onto her face. “I thought you’re cosplaying as a cop. Almost asking where did you steal that badge too.”

“Check this out, cap. We have a smartass right here,” Yerim scoffed at Seulgi. “I’ve met your kind before and they’re not as smart.”

“Thanks. My ex thought I was smart, too.”

The car almost swerved when Seulgi flashed a smirk to Sooyoung through the rearview mirror. She managed to keep the car stable thanks to self-perseverance and sheer luck.

“But none of them were caught in a donut shop, so maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are, eh?”

“I’m just making it easy for you,” Seulgi cut back without a beat, “so you don’t have to raid our territory and smashing our pubs like a bunch of clowns and getting slaughtered in return.”

The smile disappeared from Yerim’s face. “That was necessary.”

“Of course, it’s necessary because you’re not the one who walked into the butcher shop,” Seulgi snipped. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed to a crinkled slit. “You’re sending your men to their doom, all for the good publicity when in reality it’s just for spending the yearly budget.”

Silence enveloped the air. Thick and suffocating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yerim hissed. Her knuckles went white with how hard she gripped the leather seat.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Seulgi clicked her tongue. Then she laughed, almost sounding like she’s pitying Yerim. “I forgot. You’re still a rookie. Sorry for tainting your ideal, sweetheart.”

From her peripherals, Sooyoung saw Yerim’s face tightened at the statement. “Let’s see how much of a smartass you are once we get to the station.”

Seulgi chuckled. “What are you going to do? What do you want me to say?”

“Everything.”

Sooyoung looked through the mirror. Again, her eyes clashed with Seulgi’s and felt herself go ice-cold.

“Everything? Like how this city works? Or how more than half of the cops are under the mafia’s payroll?” Seulgi asked Yerim. The mockery was thick in her tone. “It doesn’t matter what I say, officer. I have no surprise for you.”

Yerim narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

“This is why I love rookies,” Seulgi added. The tone of her voice was changing as quick as a drop of a hat. “You’re all the same, thinking that criminals are scums of earth and must be eradicated at all cost. Are you still clinging to the euphoria when you received that badge? How excited you were when you finally become a hero of justice?”

Sooyoung didn’t like how Seulgi nonchalantly said those words. They felt like knives slicing under her skin.

“And what do you think you’re doing when you’re making a mess of this city? Or when are you turning half of the population into crackheads? Or when you waged a war with your rivals and the collateral damage you caused?” Yerim’s voice dropped an octave lower. “We’re going to get something out from you. I swear on it.”

Sooyoung’s car wasn’t well-equipped like other standardized patrol cars. Everyone was vulnerable here. Seulgi could’ve easily jumped on Sooyoung and Yerim wouldn’t hesitate to use her gun to keep things in order. This operation had been messy from the beginning. Sooyoung didn’t have anyone to blame but herself if things went south.

“Enough, both of you,” she called them out. Her gaze threaded back to Seulgi and that’s when her breath caught in her throat at the faintest of a smile curving on the woman’s lips. Sooyoung noticeably stiffened from the gesture as her stare grew even more stern. “Don’t provoke her, Yerim. And you,” she pointed at Seulgi, “shut the hell up.”

Seulgi shrugged as she made herself comfortable, raising her cuffed hands as a gesture of resignation. “Sure, detective,” came a raspy voice and Sooyoung’s heart was doing the weird flip again.

It took a moment for Sooyoung to calm herself because, even after all these years, this part of her seemed to never change.

-/-/-/-/

Sooyoung watched Seulgi through the one-way, observation window that overlooked the interrogation room.

Inside, Seulgi was sitting on the chair, metal cuffs circling her wrists. The officers were yelling at her, smashing their hands on the table, shouting expletives, but Seulgi didn’t even flinch. She was looking oddly calm, lucid and attentive, as she stared at the men before her, lips shaping to a thin smirk.

The session didn’t even reach twenty minutes mark. It was all pointless; the interrogating officers were looking exhausted as they crumpled to the nearest chairs, complaining that Seulgi wasn’t worth questioning, and accused Sooyoung of catching the wrong person.

“I can’t stand her,” Yerim grumbled. She bit the knuckle of her thumb, feet tapping against the hard floor anxiously. “She doesn’t look like any other crooks we’ve caught before. Look at her, sitting there and looking smug, like she’s untouchable,” she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Who is she? We don’t have any records on her. It’s like she’s coming out of thin air.”

Sooyoung chewed her lips. The informant had said the same thing: this Seulgi didn’t have any records on her. No family name, no credit history, no employment history. Her bank account was only three years old, and the latest deposit was around 20,000 won. Even after she crosschecked everything, there’s no consistency between the records. Nobody would believe her if she pointed that this woman was the same person as Kang Seulgi, a member of the SWAT team who perished in a warehouse raid years ago.

“I’ll go inside.”

Sooyoung pushed the door open; her steps were determined and measured. Seulgi looked up. She was looking bored until she realized who went in. Sooyoung must have imagined the brief sparkle when Seulgi looked at her. She’s blaming it on the room’s lighting.

The chair creaked under her weight. Sooyoung waited as she observed Seulgi’s face.

“Hello, detective.”

Sooyoung felt the voice snake up her neck, like a rusted chain that twisted into dead knots and making her suddenly dizzy with how familiar and gentle it sounded. A part of her hated Seulgi while the rest of her wavered. Separated only by a hardwood desk, Seulgi was within Sooyoung’s reach and she couldn’t decide which one she desired the most: killing Seulgi for the second time or doing things that she’d regret for the rest of her life.

“You know why we took you here.”

“I was buying donuts when you pulled a gun on me,” Seulgi focused straight into her eyes. Sooyoung felt like they’re trying to tear her soul into pieces. “Is buying donuts at midnight a crime now?”

Begrudgingly, Sooyoung dropped her phone on the desk and shoved it to Seulgi’s face. “This is you,” she said, pointing at the screen where Seulgi was standing near a pickup truck. “What are you doing in that junkyard? What’s inside those crates?”

Seulgi’s eyes hardened at the photograph before they went apathetic. “Nothing you should worry about.”

“Oh, but I’m worried,” Sooyoung coughed a scoff. “I heard that you bought a lot of weapons to support your business expansion. How many are there? Seven crates? Ten?”

“What? There are no crates.”

“Yes, you know what I’m talking about, Kang Seulgi.” The name felt like a poison that burned her tongue. She leaned forward, eyes flashing to Seulgi who sat across from her with an expression as cold as a monolith. “The second lead dog of The Binders. You know, I’ve caught some of your kin before. Slimy bunch, hard to catch, and never went down without a fight.”

Seulgi was breathing slowly. She looked up at Sooyoung, her pretty face was void of expression. The detective was no different. She didn’t shout, didn’t bang her hands on the desk, yet she studied Seulgi like a hawk watching its prey.

“They never tell us anything because they’re just low-tier members. All muscles and no brain. God knows whatever the fuck is there inside their heads.” Sooyoung watched Seulgi for any reaction as the words spilled off her lips like bile. “But you’re not one of them. You’re different. You know what you’re doing.” Sooyoung breathed deeply. Her insides were burning. “Are those crates weapons? What are you going to do with them?”

No answer.

“I will ask you again. What are you going to do with those weapons?”

“I don't understand what you mean, detective.”

Sooyoung should’ve known. Seulgi didn’t say anything before, what made her so sure that Seulgi would cooperate now? She became utterly still, and suddenly there’s this hot, burning anger bursting in her chest. Teeth snagged her lip, right hand jerked up—fingers curled, knuckles braced—and threw a swift hook at Seulgi. An audible crack bounced against the wall as Sooyoung’s fist connected with Seulgi’s jaw.

The reaction wasn’t immediate. Seulgi stumbled on the chair before blinking up at Sooyoung. The lines of her face were trembling in surprise. Then, blood was trickling from the cut on the corner of her mouth; her mask of indifference cracked as a pained growl rolled rumbled in her throat.

Sooyoung was no stranger to violence. Her job forced her to play rough when the situation called it. Against these mobs, there’s no telling what they’re going to do. Seulgi, however, wasn’t violent. She didn’t provoke Sooyoung, she didn’t throw curses at her. Sooyoung had no reason to hit Seulgi, and yet she did it.

Sooyoung was feeling a lot of anger right now, she couldn’t think anymore.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Sooyoung warned. She ignored the throbbing in her hand, opting to focus on Seulgi. “What are you going to do with those weapons!”

When Seulgi turned to glare at her, Sooyoung couldn’t help but think she was looking at a completely different person. The Seulgi she remembered had a pair of pretty brown eyes, gentle and kind, and often curved to crescents when she laughed. This Seulgi was foreign to her. It’s like meeting with a friend who’d changed everything except for the face.

“Impressive, Sooyoung,” Seulgi cleared her throat. “Have you been training? You’ve grown stronger,” she continued, wincing when her busted lip pulled in a half-smile. “I’m proud of you.”

 _Don’t talk to me like that_ , Sooyoung wanted to snarl, but that wasn’t true. Avenging Seulgi was one of her reasons to come to this place—her thoughts had constantly revolved around catching the criminals and the injustice that broiled in these streets. However, her justice was a selfish one, and Sooyoung hated it. She’d been lying to everyone, even forcing herself to believe that she’s doing this for a greater good, but it all ended up in vain.

She’s used to the reality where Seulgi had died, content to live with the ghost that whispered in her dreams. Seeing Seulgi again was like finding a corpse knocking at her door to not only have resurrected but to be crushing Sooyoung’s neck in a chokehold.

If Sooyoung wasn’t selfish, she would’ve done the right thing. Everything would’ve been easier. She’s not going to waste her breath on Seulgi and just threw her into jail with the rest of those people.

“Don’t get chummy with me, dog. You don’t know me!” her lies bled through gritted teeth. “You won’t get out of here easily. I’ll make sure of it.”

Sooyoung collected herself and returned to the observatory room where Yerim and the rest of the officers were waiting. Everyone was looking at her weirdly, but it was Yerim who gave the most piercing glare. It’s like having her skin stripped with acid.

Regardless, Sooyoung wasn’t here to argue. Migraine was splitting her head in painful throb, her stomach twisted, and she still had to send reports to Inspector Kwon.

Sooyoung flinched. That Inspector was more troublesome than every gang in Red District combined.

“Hey,” fingers snapped in front of her face. Leave it to Yerim for giving her the rudest wake-up call ever. She jutted her chin to Seulgi, who’s currently nursing her bruised jaw. “What should we do with her?”

“Put her in a cell,” Sooyoung dismissed. She picked Seulgi’s fingerprint card and handed it to Yerim. “Get this to Nana. See if she can find out more about her.”

“On it,” Yerim nodded. She gave Sooyoung a look before padding away.

“And get her first aid too!”

Sooyoung could only watch when two officers took Seulgi. She didn’t miss how Seulgi was glancing at her through the one-way mirror. Once Seulgi was out from her sight, Sooyoung finally let out a long, exhausted breath. She pressed her hand to the glass as reality slowly weighed down on her.

“Seulgi,” she muttered the name, trying to make it familiar again as it rolled on her tongue. “Seulgi, Seulgi, Seulgi.”

Once, that name was attached into something beautiful, something that warmed Sooyoung’s heart. A name that tasted sweet as she kissed that beautiful mouth as she wondered to herself if this must be what crazy felt like.

Teeth clenching, Sooyoung held back everything that threatened to burst out of her.

Seulgi’s death had hurt, but none seemed to hurt as bad as the fact that she’d been grieving for someone who’d never died in the first place.

-/-/-/-/

She wondered about the last time she went to prison. What were the circumstances? Seulgi tried to remember. It had something to do with resorting a drug kingpin to a maximum-security prison. The raid to capture him made into the papers in bold and glaring letters. The general public was celebrating, the government gave her medals, and the media hailed her as a hero.

“Get in there!”

The cop forced Seulgi into the cell with a rough push on the head. A curse fell off her tongue as she clumsily tried to keep her balance. Her glare locked down on the officer. He’s tall and lanky, easy enough for Seulgi to overpower, but the sharp pain in her jaw after that powerful right hook kept her from attacking back.

Seulgi wheeled around just as the bars rattled shut and the lock banged into place. “I hope you don’t mind sleeping with some of your friends tonight!” the officer hollered before walking away. The keys jingled together with his steps.

Seulgi rolled her eyes. Turning around, she noticed there were around six people inside the cell: men and women alike. Other cells were also full of people. They’re all huddled inside the tiny space, chins on their knees, legs folded to make space; their expression sullen as they threw suspicious glares to one another.

Rubbing her reddened wrists, Seulgi picked a small spot near the metal bars and sat there. She lolled her head against the concrete wall of the cell, eyes fluttering close as her muscles relaxed. Pulling her coat tighter around her body, Seulgi ignored the throbbing in her jaw and tried to sleep.

It was cold. Her nose caught the scent of gunpowder and there’s a noise of blazing guns in the distance. A shooting range in a police station was normal. Seulgi remembered that she often spent time with Sooyoung and had a small competition on who’s the best shooter. Sooyoung was just a rookie officer and Seulgi was a new addition to the SWAT team.

Seulgi remembered that every raid was hailed as a holy mission. The silent moment inside the van as they cruised through the streets was tense, how everyone was dressed for a war: tactical vests, helmets, M-16s, pistols and combat knives, flash grenades strapped on the waist.

 _“Our target is that warehouse where the White Lotus is nesting. Those bastards have been using that place as their crack palace and housing narcotic labs,”_ the captain spoke up, his voice sharp and clear throughout the small compartment. _“For the past 10 years, that warehouse has been a no-go zone for police and we all know why,”_ his brows pulled to a frown as he observed his team, including Seulgi. _“They have a strong backup and are very well equipped too. For many years, police and rival gangs alike have been trying to take over that turf, including The Binders, but none succeeded.”_

Everyone was quiet. Some were exchanging glances; some were holding onto their weapons to calm their nerves. Something about this operation hit differently. The situation was serious and foreboding. It’s as if they knew they’re facing a force that’s beyond their power.

 _“Be alert,”_ the captain added with an edge in his voice. “ _They’re ready and willing to fight, but I know we’re stronger than them. Keep it organized, listen to your orders, and focus at all times. We take the place section by section, silence every spotter, and secure every corner. I want every one of us returns to this van once we’re finished. Got that?”_

It was a simple operation. They went in, ransacked the place, killed everyone who shot at them, and captured the survivors. They’d done it so many times. This mission should’ve been no different.

Unfortunately, the raid was doomed from the start. In the beginning, everything went smoothly. They managed to subdue the guards and sneaked inside the building. What followed soon after that was a carnage made in hell.

The White Lotus thugs ambushed them from above, shooting at them like they’re turkey for thanksgiving dinner and almost wiping them out. Seulgi, the captain, and the three other remaining officers managed to escape the ambush and continued the mission.

But there’s a reason why they called that warehouse a death trap.

The place was boarded up into a maze that housed numerous traps, including a room filled with bathroom scale pressure plates that triggered grenade bouquets. Not to mention that they had to deal with an endless wave of henchmen armed with guns and machetes. The team was quickly falling in numbers, leaving only Seulgi and the captain to continue. Beaten, burned, and bloody, they managed to go to the third floor where the narcotic factory was.

Seulgi braced herself as she opened the door. The air smelled heavy with tar and other toxins that hazardous to the lungs. She was ready for anything, even for the worse one.

But she was never ready to have a bullet piercing her from behind.

She was never ready to have the captain stepped on her, to see the captain talking to someone with a satisfied grin on his face, and how smug he was when he said everything has been taken care of’. She remembered the look he gave her when the thugs dragged her away, throwing her to a pickup truck together where the SWAT’s dead bodies were gathered.

Seulgi wondered if she should stay on that truck and let those goons buried her with her comrades, but, as she’s grasping on the thread, the betrayal left her with nothing but fury even her body refused to give up.

She wasn’t thinking as she jumped out of the truck. The pain almost blinded her as the impact tore open the wound in her stomach wider. She crawled along the dirty street, thinking about surviving, about Sooyoung because, oh god, she _had_ to tell Sooyoung.

Sooyoung must know the truth.

Her eyes snapped open as a pair of hands roaming dangerously close to her breasts. She reacted fast and grabbed the wrist in a lock and twist the thumb back until it almost fully bent. A pained yelp erupted as the molester instinctively twisted his hand to free himself, only to have his thumb broke at the hand joint. The man screamed in agony and was breathing hard.

The other inmates were curling closer to one another as they’re too scared to do anything. Meanwhile, Seulgi stopped and studied the molester as he writhed. She grabbed the broken thumb gingerly like holding a toy.

“A sleeping woman should be left well alone,” Seulgi hissed and pushed the broken finger harder.

“Agh! Lemme go you fucking cunt!”

The cuss word didn’t amuse her. In turn, she grabbed his index finger and twisted it to an odd angle. Another joint popped loudly; he’s screaming so hard until his voice cracked, yet nobody came to check. Either they were already used to it or didn’t care about anything anymore.

“Watch your mouth, dickhead. Don’t make your life harder with a hand that has no functioning fingers,” she warned and roughly let go of his hand.

The man was cursing his broken fingers, breathing a string of curses through pained sobs. “This is a warning to all of you,” Seulgi continued with a voice that’s loud enough to hear through the hallways. She briefly observed her cellmates before adding her final statement for the night.

“Do not fuck with me.”

-/-/-/-/

The moment Irene received a call from Jiyong, just after she’s walking out of the shower, she knew something was fucked.

She picked whatever she could find in her drawer and dressed. Pacing through the room, Irene approached the safe box under her working desk and entered the password. The sight of wads of money that barely filling the space ached her heart, but now wasn’t the time to be stingy. She threw some of the papers into a briefcase and slammed the box close. Her steps chorused against the mansion’s old walls as she made her way outside.

Irene couldn’t believe this. Seulgi had always been careful. She rarely made a mistake, and yet…

Irene took her phone and dialed a number, eyes watching the street as she sped up the car. It took five beeps for the call to finally connect.

“He—”

“Taeyeon!” Irene almost snarled. “Where are you right now?”

“You’re too loud, Bae. It’s still 8 in the morning,” came the crude reply. Taeyeon’s voice was scratchy like she’d been yelling all night.

The car slowed and turned in an intersection that would take her to The Pub.

“I need some cash.”

“For what?”

Irene inhaled deeply before continuing, then shook her head. “They have Seulgi.”

There’s a rustle on the other side of the line, followed by girly whines and Taeyeon’s cooing that sounded like ‘go back to sleep, sweetheart’. Irene resisted the urge to roll her eyes, fingers impatiently tapping on the steering wheel.

“They what?” Taeyeon sounded soberer this time. There were no background noises. Taeyeon was already moving to another room. “What happened to Seulgi?”

Irene tensed slightly and stopped herself to make a mess of her lower lip. She’d been assaulting it with her teeth and the taste of metal was starting to seep into her tongue.

“The cops. They got Seulgi.”

She heard Taeyeon breathe from the receiver. “How? That kid never got caught before.”

“I don’t know! She was checking the shipment last night and hadn’t returned, I thought she’s going off somewhere,” Irene ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Jiyong called me.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be on our side?” Taeyeon asked, probably raising her eyebrows too.

Irene held the snarl from rolling off her mouth. Jiyong was oddly smug as he said, “ _Your lapdog is now in jail. Hope you have a backup,”_ and Irene would love to shoot a bullet to his head if possible.

“He’s never on our side,” Irene stressed each word in resentment. Her fists tightened; throat constricted. She breathed in to calm her nerves, barely able to exhale through the shudder that consumed her being.

Nobody was on her side, that much Irene understood, but it still ached her to think about it. As time went on, the obvious distrust between her and the other members became something quietly accepted, something that became a topic of discussion in whispers and secrets.

Irene never brought it up, either. The truth was she’d never be fully accepted as their leader, and Irene had learned to accept it although she’s still drawing lines on betrayal. Four years had passed since the crisis. As long as Irene was doing the right thing and keeping the council happy, she would be able to keep her existence above The Binders for a little longer.

“I’ll meet you at The Pub,” Taeyeon concluded.

Irene felt her insides turned to goo at the statement. Dealing with Taeyeon would have consequences, but she was one of the few people Irene could turn into. Not saying that Taeyeon was the good guy, but compared to those filths, Taeyeon was the most reasonable.

“Okay,” she said. _And thank you_ , was the unspoken addition that Irene didn’t want to say. It’s still too soon to thank Taeyeon now.

“Psh, whatever. What are you gonna do without me?”

Irene opened her mouth to protest but the call ended before she could even say a thing.

“Asshole…”

-/-/-/-/

They took off from The Pub a little past nine.

Irene took the wheel while Taeyeon was on the passenger’s seat, checking on her nails and occasionally looking outside the window. The briefcase was at the back, locked, and loaded with money.

“You don’t have to come with me, Taeyeon,” Irene commented, keeping her gaze to the street. Her voice was tight.

“I want to meet that Jiyong fellow,” came the reply. It sounded nonchalant to the trained ears but Irene knew Taeyeon was interested.

“He’s just as corrupt as anyone in the city minus the beer belly.”

Taeyeon raised an eyebrow. “So, he’s good looking?”

“If you’re looking at him through a drinking straw.”

That earned Irene a haughty laugh. Amicable conversation between them was rare, but it felt rather nice when it happened. Taeyeon was as ruthless as the other members of the gang, but she didn’t get high on violence and preferred to solve problems without resorting to murder.

“Lucky you that the races have been good lately,” Taeyeon commented as she scratched her chin, easily changing the topic. “Though the cops have been coming to the tracks a little too frequently.” Irene scoffed. Cops going to the race tracks only meant one thing and it’s not because they want to check on the horses.

Irene glanced at the older woman briefly.

“I suppose you want me to do something about that?”

Taeyeon turned to Irene with an exaggerated scoff, giving Irene an astonished look. “I’m just sharing my woe, Irene. That doesn’t mean I’m asking you to clean up the mess.”

“Shut it, Taeyeon. You know how it works here. Nothing’s free.”

“You know, you should stop thinking like that,” Taeyeon demanded. Voice lowered but clear. “Not everyone in the family wants to stab you in the back.”

“They’re family to you, not to me. I just want to get Seulgi out before those old relics in the council decide to be funny and do something stupid,” Irene stated through gritted teeth.

The times when she had to sit together with them were the most painful. They looked at her like Irene had lepers, and Irene had no patience in her to wait for the day she could finally wipe them out.

“Ah them,” Taeyeon commented with disgust she didn’t bother to hide. “They’re starting to get nosy.” She leaned to the seat and stretched out her feet, groaning when the knotted muscles on her legs loosen up. “They asked me about your new business. They wanted to know what you’re doing, where do you take the money and all that shit. They tried to bribe me even.”

“And what did you tell them?”

“Nothing. I play with horses, not with drugs, and you know how it went. They’re thinking I’m taking your side and starting to harass me.”

Irene laughed, but it’s strained and humorless. “They can ask me in person. Who knows? I can be generous.”

Taeyeon’s reaction wasn’t that far off. “Sure, and they’ll gladly suck you to the bones.”

Irene understood. She stared to the road, not bothering to voice her agreement. They went quiet again after that. Sunlight streamed through the windshield. Despite how bright it was, the weather was brisk, cold in a sort of way that made people walked a bit faster.

“If you hate to be in debt, then I have something for you,” Taeyeon said after a while. Her right knee was bouncing lightly.

“What is it?”

Taeyeon replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let’s get that old bear out of the cage first,” she retorted with a chuckle. “I want to keep you in suspense, Bae.”

A smile threatened to manifest at the statement. She managed to hold it in, fortunately. She’d choose death first before she let Kim Taeyeon seeing her smiling.

-/-/-/-/

Irene surveyed the restaurant, her eyes searching for any signs of trouble.

The place was brightly lit and looking ridiculously posh with its pink, flowery wallpapers and twinkling chandeliers. There’s a sweet smell wafting under Irene’s noise in waves, but the food did nothing to distract her. Instead, it made her even more nervous.

The people around her hardly noticed her distress as they calmly continued enjoying their food. Conversations happened in murmur and giggles; there’s a gentleman in a nice suit was writing something in his journal while a pair of women were talking expressively to each other.

Taeyeon was busying herself in the cake and dessert corner. Despite her previous statement about wanting to meet Jiyong, she was interested more in the food and practically skipping as she made her way to the buffet. Irene let her go. She didn’t want Jiyong to get suspicious.

A man in a brown leather jacket stepped in, of average height, and slightly lanky body. His hair was thick and looking greasy with pomade; must be something trendy because Irene had seen some of Binder boys sported the same look. He looked around for a bit before his gaze finally landed on Irene. The closer he got, the wider his grin turned out.

Irene rose to her feet; hands shoved deep into her pockets so Jiyong couldn’t see how hard she’s clenching her fists.

“Ms. Bae,” he greeted with faux politeness in his voice, an upward tilt to his mouth. He stepped a bit closer and offered his hand. “It’s been a while since the last time I saw you.”

Irene ignored his hand and just stared at him. He seemed to catch the drift and awkwardly pulled away; his smile was slightly chipped.

“I chose this place because it’s outside both of our jurisdiction,” he stated. His voice sounded like a tire moving against gravels, low and grumbling. Then, he looked around the place like he’s trying to distract himself, or looking out for whoever might recognize him. “Have you tried some of the food? I heard they serve a mean bundt cake here.”

The question didn’t amuse her. She barely refrained from shanking him on the face, preferring to sit back onto the chair while Jiyong took the opposite.

“Inspector, I responded to your call because I believe we need to understand each other better,” she cut into the conversation. She smoothed her hand on the table without taking her eyes away. “I’m a businessman. I’m looking to expand my business so my company and I can thrive. Thing is, Jiyong, I can’t run my business without my partner.”

Kwon Jiyong wasn’t worth her time, but he was getting a little too brave _and_ comfortable with his position. And with Seulgi captured, Irene had to make sure Jiyong knew his place. He’s fickle at best and a traitor at worst. Until she found a better _and_ competent replacement, she had to endure having Jiyong around.

“Now,” Jiyong shifted on his chair and put the flower vase aside to avoid accidentally knocking it down. “I understand your demand. I’m the Inspector, I can easily help you. But how can I release her when I see things like this?” he pulled out his phone and put it on the table. Then, he turned the screen around to make it easier for Irene to see. “This is your woman right here, looking busy as she stocked up weapons to that warehouse.”

Her gaze fell to the picture before it went up back at Jiyong. There’s no expression on her face except for the obvious sharpness that reflected in her eyes.

“I’ve heard about your plan to expand the business, Irene,” Jiyong continued. “But I’m worried that your expansion might cause more trouble,” he paused as he smoothed the sleeves of his jacket. “It’s a big risk and that doesn’t include the feuds you have with half of the gangs in this city.”

Irene shook her head. “The feuds have been going on for generations. I will continue with the expansion and as for the trouble you mentioned, I have already dealt with the situation.”

The color of Jiyong’s face darkened.

“I can’t let her go. Not when the evidence is this damning.”

“Look the other way then,” Irene waved him off without a second thought. “Cross her off. She won’t be your concern.”

A wry smile crowned upon his lips. “You’re a simpleton, aren’t you Bae?”

“I will make a deal with you.”

Jiyong feigned surprise but both of them knew a deal was just another part of the business. He crossed his arms on his chest like he’s trying to weigh his options. “What deal?”

Both of them went quiet as a waiter made a pass near their table. Irene straightened her posture. The sunlight illuminated the hard lines in her perpetually scrunched forehead.

“You will leave my business alone from now on. The Binders territory will be crossed out from your monthly raiding schedule, no surprise inspection to the race tracks, no more lifting my runners. You will turn the blind eye to my business expansion and leave me alone when I make my move.”

“And what about White Lotus?”

“I heard your supervisor pressured you to take care of them due to the recent troubles they’d caused. This is what I’m going to offer you, Inspector,” Irene leaned closer purposely to invade his space. “You have a good name in the force, you want to appear as a hero, but you can’t let go the steady stream of money Euntae has been sending you. That’s why you’re playing both sides, but Euntae isn’t stupid. He will get rid of you once he decided that you’re no longer useful.”

Irene didn’t miss the sliver of fear in Jiyong’s eyes. “And you won’t do the same?”

“I will take care of Euntae,” Irene replied curtly. “Everything is already in motion. My offering is fair. You can take all the credit. You’ll be a hero, maybe you’ll get a medal and be promoted to commissioner.”

Jiyong’s expression went hard. He folded his hands together as chattering from the other visitors filled the palpable silence between them.

“There’s a briefcase under the table. Take it,” Irene commanded, sensing Jiyong’s hesitation.

Irene waited, noticing how Jiyong’s eyes darted from one spot to another. She didn’t consider herself a patient woman, but she couldn’t afford to be reckless. Seulgi was an important asset. The longer Seulgi in the police custody, the faster the news would break to the inner circle. They would see this as an opportunity to cause another bloody conflict within the ranks.

Losing more men would bring disadvantages once the fight with White Lotus truly began.

“What do you say, inspector? I need your answer. Now.”

His gaze latched to Irene in a way that wished that looks could kill. In return, Irene stood her ground and replied with a silence that’s louder than any hollering command.

“You’re an asshole, Bae,” he said after a while. Disgust and anger were clear in his voice.

Irene reacted with a quirk of her eyebrows. The chair screeched against the floor as Irene rose, finding no reason to prolong this conversation.

“Call your boys. I want Seulgi to already out of her cell once I’m there.”

Then, she sauntered off the exit with a purpose in mind. Not once she’s looking back at Jiyong.

-/-/-/-/

Sooyoung didn’t have time to worry that she almost ran into a fire hydrant and missed two red lights because of her reckless driving. She only slept for three hours when she received a call from the station that someone had bailed the criminal.

Last night was more exhausting than the accumulated years of joining the police force. After writing her reports, Sooyoung went to the lab to get Seulgi’s fingerprints checked. The room was dark, only bathed in a green glow from the old computer screen. It showed fingerprint patterns being aligned, compared, then rejected as the results didn’t match with one another. Sooyoung and Yerim watched as the screen kept blaring the word ‘reject’ over and over.

The technician named Nana adjusted the knob, then turned to the detectives.

“I’ve seen this guy take as long as three days to make a match. You guys better wait somewhere else."

Sooyoung didn’t buy that excuse. “Can you check her prints with Kang Seulgi’s? A member of the SWAT team who went MIA in that raid?”

Nana peeled the glasses off her nose. She looked exhausted. “We have migrated the data older than three years to a separate server. It’ll take more time to access that one.”

“You’re the IT guy, Nana. You can do something about that!”

“I need permission, Sooyoung,” Nana insisted with an edge in her tone, “and that information you just asked is classified. You need a level 4 clearance to access that data; not even Inspector Kwon has it.”

Sooyoung and Yerim walked out of the print lab. Both detectives were looking tired with a slump in their steps. The whirring sound from the computer and servers followed them into the corridor. Nobody was up in this graveyard hour except for the janitor who’s currently mopping the hall.

 _You’re obsessed captain,_ was what Yerim told her before they went home. The young detective didn’t say anything more before she walked off the parking lot. It was partly Sooyoung’s fault for failing to keep her cool. She also hit Seulgi despite the woman did nothing to provoke her. Yerim might have had an idea, one that Sooyoung didn’t dare to think about.

The car skidded to a stop just in front of the station’s entrance and she wasted no time running to the basement where the cells were located. Just as she reached the end of the main hall, the elevator dinged open, followed by the appearance of Seulgi with two other officers escorting her.

“Let me get this one,” she said to the officers once she’s within their reach.

They shared a brief look. “But ma’am, she’s—”

“I know!” Sooyoung scolded. Didn’t bother to hide her annoyance. “Get out of my face, officer. I’ll take care of her.”

Sooyoung didn’t wait for them to agree and just yanked Seulgi by the arm, dragging her away. They went to a waiting room near the entrance. Once inside, Sooyoung closed the door and locked it so no one would bother them.

The skin on her palm when she had touched Seulgi burned. Sooyoung breathed deeply, closing her eyes and keeping her head down.

“Sooyoung.”

In her sleepless nights, she’d wished for that voice to call her name and yet nothing prepared her for this moment, where Seulgi was so very much alive, within her reach, and horrifyingly familiar that her presence was enough to hurt Sooyoung.

She dared to look at Seulgi as she sat down. The silence between them was tense, palpable. Her gaze dropped to the mark that spread from the base of Seulgi’s jaw to her cheek. The color of the bruise reminded Sooyoung of vomit. Her heart flinched in guilt and Sooyoung hated it.

It hurt to look at Seulgi like this.

“Did you sleep well?” Seulgi asked, voice soft. Sooyoung said nothing. “You look tired.”

Sooyoung answered with a scoff. She closed her fist tightly, forcing herself to stay angry. That question meant nothing to her, yet Sooyoung was staring at Seulgi’s face for a second too long. Drinking the sight of Seulgi as if to make sure this woman wasn’t just a fragment of her imagination.

“Soo—”

“Stop talking,” Sooyoung spat, loud enough to make Seulgi tensed on her seat. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I suppose so.”

“Then why are you here? Did someone reanimate you? Practicing necromancy with your corpse?”

Amusement flickered briefly in Seulgi’s eyes; her busted lips quirked to a thin smile. “It’s good to see you too.”

Sooyoung’s face changed, closely resembling a surprise, but she didn’t keep it long enough lest Seulgi would catch on and exploit her.

“Hm,” she hummed indifferently. “Yeah, I bet it is.” Her lips pursed tightly. It’s more of an attempt to keep herself from saying things she’d regret. “Of course, you’re not the one who’s looking at a ghost after spending _years_ thinking they’re dead.”

Her voice sounded different in her ears. Low, shaking, _broken_. Sooyoung was disappointed because Seulgi didn’t show any response.

“You don’t want to know what happened.”

“Do I?” Sooyoung repeated, a burning venom in her voice that made Seulgi flinch. “So, you’re saying that faking your death and joining The Binders is a better option?”

“I was stuck in a difficult situation, Sooyoung.”

“I was grieving for you!” she almost cried for it, voice breaking and thick with malice. “I mourned you, Seulgi! And you were not even _fucking_ dead!”

Her boots jingled as Sooyoung rose, banging along the floor as she paced around like she couldn’t stand being in the same space with Seulgi. She pressed her forehead to the wall with her hands pressing against the surface, her head banging lightly to get rid of the onslaught of emotions that currently spiraling inside.

There’s a tug at the back of her jacket. Sooyoung turned around, almost tripping on her feet. Her eyes were hot and she was slow to respond when Seulgi reached out to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

“Don’t touch me!” The sadness she’s feeling heated up and changed into anger. Sooyoung felt it swell up as she harshly swatted Seulgi’s hand.

“Soo, let me explain—”

She made a noise that sounded like a monstrous growl as she stepped further, slipping her hand under her jacket and pointing her pistol to Seulgi’s head.

_Click._

The echo when Sooyoung pulled the safety off sounded into the room. “Who do you think you’re speaking to?” she asked. Her lips pulled to a snarl; eyes flickered to a murderous glare. “It’s Captain Park for you. One step closer and I will kill you!”

Begrudgingly, slowly, Seulgi stepped back and raised her hands in surrender. Each step was slow until she was backed against the opposite wall. “Okay,” Seulgi muttered. “Okay… Captain Park.”

For a moment, only their breathing filled the silence between them, until a loud banging from outside shattered the lingering tension.

“Captain Park!” someone called her. It’s the inspector’s voice and Sooyoung didn’t bother to hide her distaste. “Get out of the room now!”

Without taking her eyes from Seulgi, Sooyoung walked to the door and unlocked it. Once it’s opened, the first thing she saw was the mug of Inspector Kwon Jiyong glaring at her and the two officers from before.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Jiyong inquired before peering into the room. “She’s already released on bail.”

“I know, sir,” Sooyoung gritted her answer. “I’m sorry.”

Jiyong huffed but decided to drop the topic. Then, he turned his focus to Seulgi. “You. Out. Your boss is waiting.”

Instead of looking at Seulgi, Sooyoung staring hard to the floor, fists clenched and shivered. The door closed with a soft click and she stayed like that for minutes longer. Sooyoung still felt anger lay thick and heavy in her blood. Even after Seulgi had gone, her body was still reeling with the truth that felt more like a burning sword plunged into her gut. Her eyes were getting hot again.

This time, however, Sooyoung didn’t try to fight back the tears.


End file.
